Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness. — Louise Erdrich, The Plague of Doves

Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness. — Louise Erdrich, The Plague of Doves

Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness. — Louise Erdrich, The Plague of Doves

Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness. — Louise Erdrich, The Plague of Doves

Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness. — Louise Erdrich, The Plague of Doves

Old love, middle love, the kind of love that knows itself and knows that nothing lasts, is a desperate shared wildness.

— Louise Erdrich, The Plague of Doves

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