…not even the familiar scent of eucalyptus, or the sight of its leaves thrust into a nostril, or the drumroll of rain on currogated tin roof, or the visceral odor of a freshly opened abdomen– could ever be the same again.

—- Cutting for Stone, Abraham Verghese

30 Mar This entry was published on March 30, 2013 at 6:43 am and is filed under Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.