If thou didst ever hold me in thy heart, Absent thee from felicity awhile, And in this harsh world draw thy breath in pain, To tell my story.

This sort of thing keeps many a storyteller alive. They may be particularly sensitive to the harshness of the world, to the miseries that afflict the many but they will draw their breath in pain because they feel a sense of responsibility to tell someone’s story.

One’s own story might keep you alive for a little bit but ultimately, for a consummate storyteller, it will be the responsibility to recount others’ stories that will keep them going.

It is a harsh world. It is also beautiful sometimes. The responsibility (either given or taken on) of telling someone’s story is sometimes enough to help one draw one’s breath in less pain.

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