Lovers' reading of each other's bodies (of that concentrate of mind and body which lovers use to go to bed together) differs from the reading of written pages in that it is not linear. It starts at any point, skips, repeats itself, goes backward, insists, ramifies in simultaneous and divergent messages, converges again, has moments of irritation, turns the page, finds its place, gets lost. A direction can be recognized in it, a route to an end, since it tends toward a climax, and with this end in view it arranges rhythmic phases, metrical scansions, recurrence of motives. But is the climax really the end? Or is the race toward that end opposed by another drive which works in the opposite direction, swimming against moments, recovering time?
— Italo Calvino, If on a Winter's Night a Traveler
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For Your Love The Yardbirds
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All Around and Away We Go Twin Sister
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Sweet Sixteen Think About Life
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Ten-Twenty-Ten Generationals
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Inní mér syngur vitleysingur Sigur Rós
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Ooh La La Faces
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Nowhere Again The Secret Machines
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Big Burned Hand Iron & Wine
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Black Balloon The Kills
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Wolf Like Me TV on the Radio
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Symphony 6: Fair Thee Well & The Requiem Mix Emily Wells
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All Time Low Widespread Panic
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Spider in the Snow The Dismemberment Plan
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Walk in the Park Oh No Oh My
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In the Aeroplane Over the Sea Neutral Milk Hotel
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Fire Coming Out Of The Monkey's Head Gorillaz
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Repetition Kills You The Black Ghosts
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A Forest The Cure
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Crystalised The xx
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Visiting Friends Animal Collective