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"Much of the joy I always feel on the island lies precisely in being free of the nagging suspician I used to have that no matter what I was doing I might better be doing something else: if playing with my kids I should be working, if working I was neglecting my friends, if out with my friends I belonged home with my kids. How often I accused myself of reading when I should be writing, of writing when I ought to be reading, of staying indoors when I ought to be out in the streets ... filling my ears with oughts, but never knowing which ear the devil was whispering in."
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