Everything a historian writes should be a celebration of life. A hymn of praise to life. It should come up from inside a man who knows all about that horror of the darkness when a man returns to the dust from whence he came. Of a man who's looked into the heart of a great darkness that has seen and felt both a tenderness for everyone and yet paradoxically a melancholy, a sadness and compassion, because he realises that what matters most in life is never likely to happen.
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