Full disclaimer: I don’t always love Faulkner. Still, this quote, and that which precedes it – “I give you the mausoleum of all hope and desire…I give it to you not that you may remember time, but that you might forget it now and then for a moment and not spend all of your breath trying to conquer it” – is so terrifically pregnant. Are gifts, those great gifts (love, devotion, loyalty…. those) sometimes more a burden than a blessing? Does the maintenance required by such a possession change the innocence of the gesture? And how about that victory? If victory is illusory, is it the battle that’s the all? Even then, would the combatants have preferred that we’d never given them the gift in the first place?

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