Violence translates itself.
Is silence violence?
What is the plow, and whose bones are those?
Bats have echolocation to navigate through space, but what is it called when beings navigate according to time?
Are we defined by what we avoid?
We take something back to our nest.
How far will we go to justify our beliefs?
Is it possible to write a crime novel with only one suspect?
A thesis for the novel reveals itself.
I begin another read through, this time of Nobel winner Olga Tokarczuk.