Weaving intricate words into meaning is a privilege and a sort of meditation; a healing salve if you will.
"My gripe is not with lovers of the truth, but with truth herself. What succor, what consolation is there in truth, compared to a story? What good is truth, at midnight, in the dark, when the wind is roaring like a bear in the chimney? When the lightning strikes shadows on the bedroom wall and the rain taps at the window with its long fingernails? No, when fear and cold make a statue of you in your bed, don't expect hard- boned and fleshless truth to come running to your aid. What you need are the plump comforts of a story. A soothing, rocking safety of a lie. "
Vida Winters--- character from The Thirteenth Tale, by Diane Setterfield
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