City of Glass – Paul Auster (1987)

‘His eyes were permanently fixed on the pavement, as though searching for something. Indeed, every now and then he would stoop down, pick some object off the ground, and examine it closely, turning it over and over in his hand. It made Quinn think of an archaeologist inspecting a shard of some prehistoric ruin.’

‘A white wall becomes a yellow wall becomes a grey wall, he said to himself. The paint becomes exhausted, the city encroaches with soot, the plaster crumbles within.’

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