Elsewhere

I believe that books, once they are written, have no need of their authors. If they have something to say, they will sooner or later find readers; if not, they won’t… . I very much love those mysterious volumes, both ancient and modern, that have no definite author but have had and continue to have an intense life of their own. They seem to me a sort of nighttime miracle, like the gifts of the Befana, which I waited for as a child.

True miracles are the ones whose makers will never be known.

Elena Ferrante, cited by James Wood in The New Yorker

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Notes

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