It is a curious emotion, this certain homesickness I have in mind. With Americans, it is a national trait, as native to us as the roller-coaster or the jukebox. It is no simple longing for the home town or country of our birth. The emotion is Janus-faced: we are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.
Carson McCullersAbout author
- Author's profession: Novelist
- Nationality: american
- Born: February 19, 1917
- Died: September 29, 1967
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And when I had learned it, I looked atmy life, and it was also a river, and the boy Siddhartha was onlyseparated from the man Siddhartha and from the old man Siddhartha by ashadow, not by something real. Also, Siddhartha's previous births wereno past, and his death and his return to Brahma was no future. Nothingwas, nothing will be; everything is, everything has existence and ispresent.
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