And then I saw him and nothing was ever the same again. The sky was never the same colour, the moon never the same shape: the air never smelt the same, food never tasted the same. Every word I knew changed its meaning, everything that once was stable and firm became as insubstantial as a puff of wind, and every puff of wind became a solid thing I could feel and touch.
Stephen FryAbout author
- Author's profession: Comedian, Actor, Playwright, Writer
- Nationality: british
- Born: August 24, 1957
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