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Jane Wolfe Diary Entry circa late September 1924
For days I have had, at intervals, an uneasy feeling; this feeling having nothing to do with mundane affairs—more of a traveling through uncharted territory—a conscious working in regions that heretofore I have tackled in dreams, these. dreams being incoherent struggles to climb unclimbable places, traverse slippery paths, hang on to wee narrow ledges while vast waters flowed below. I recognise it all. It is something like straining to lift a withered arm.
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