“The perception of truth evolves through small revelations. Old truths decay in the same way. The revelations are rarely thunderous. They are mites you can barely hear, working behind the wood. They are corns of wheat, bits of string. They piggyback our dreams, or wait in the dirt until the day we hit face-first. We accrete truth like silt. It hones us like wind over sandstone.” —Michael Perry, Off Main Street

Istanbul // July 2013
Istanbul // July 2013

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