If for a moment God would forget that I am a rag doll and give me a scrap of
life, possibly I would not say everything that I think, but I would definitely think
everything that I say.
I would value things not for how much they are worth but rather for what they
mean.
I would sleep little, dream more. I know that for each minute that we close our
eyes we lose sixty seconds of light.
I would walk when the others loiter; I would awaken when the others sleep.
I would listen when the others speak, and how I would enjoy a good chocolate
ice cream.
If God would bestow on me a scrap of life, I would dress simply, I would throw
myself flat under the sun, exposing not only my body but also
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