What really counted was the possibility of escape, a leap of freedom, out of the implacable ritual, a wild run for it that would give whatever chance for hope there was. Of course, hope meant being cut down on some street corner, as you ran like mad, by a random bullet. But when I really thought it through, nothing was going to allow me such a luxury. Everything was against it; I would just be caught up in the machinery again.
Albert CamusAbout author
- Author's profession: Philosopher, Writer
- Nationality: french
- Born: November 7, 1913
- Died: January 4, 1960
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Tell me one last thing," said Harry. "Is this real? Or has this been happening inside my head?"Dumbledore beamed at him, and his voice sounded loud and strong in Harry's ears even though the bright mist was descending again, obscuring his figure."Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean it is not real?
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