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I know. You could never hid anything. Your eyes always gave you away. You had the most wonderful eyes I'd ever seen." She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked discretely at him. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you more that summer than I ever loved anyone.
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I don't write romance novels.
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As Logan walked towards her, he smiled as if reading her mind and opened his arms.
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Life was about spending time together , about having the time to walk together holding hands, talking quietly as the sun go down. It wasn't glamorous, but it was, in many ways, the best that life has to offer. Wasn't that how the old saying went? Who, on their deathbed, ever said they wished they had worked harder? Or spent less time enjoying a quiet afternoon? Or spent less time with their family?
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There's always pressure, a great deal of pressure, when writing, since my first books were so successful.
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I know you loved her, but it's okay to let it go now. You know that, don't you? You've got to be able to let it go.
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She was sleeping in a quiet bedroom beside her brother, separated only by glass and sand from the young man she loved, a young man who loved her back.
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The past can be escaped only by embracing something better.
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I want to wake up with you beside me in the mornings. I want to spend my evenings looking at you across the dinner table. I want to share every mundane detail of my day with you and hear every detail of yours. I want to laugh with you and fall asleep with you in my arms.
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I don't hate it here," she said automatically. Surprising herself, she realized that as much as she'd been trying to convince herself otherwise, she was telling the truth. "It's just that I don't belong here." He gave her a meloncholy smile. "If it's any consolation, when I was growing up, I didn't feel like I belonged here, either. I dreamed about going to New York. But it's strange, because when I finally escaped this place, I ended up missing it more than I thought I would. There's something about the ocean that just calls to me.
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And for an instant, I fantasized about wrapping my arms around her right then and there.
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Is it possible, I wonder, for a man to truly change? Or do character and habit form the immovable boundaries of our lives?
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Women want the fairytale. Not all women, of course, but most women grow up dreaming about the kind of man who would risk everything for them, even knowing they might get hurt.
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I am still yours, Allie, my queen, my timeless beauty. You are, and always have been, the best thing in my life.
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As compromised as their marriage might be, part of her still believed in her vows. She loved the man he'd been, and she loved the man she knew he could be.
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People in pain don’t always see things as clearly as they should.
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These days she simply did the best job she could, accepting the good with the bad.
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But you're disappointed." He brushed a strand of hair from her face. "It's not possible for you to disappoint me.
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That a day spent with dreaming and sunsets and refreshing breezes cannot be bettered.
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Emotions come and go and can't be controlled so there's no reason to worry about them. That in the end, people should be judged by their actions since in the end it was actions that defined everyone.
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But love, I’ve come to understand, is more than three words mumbled before bedtime. Love is sustained by action, a pattern of devotion in the things we do for each other every day.
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Then you came along and helped me believe in myself again.
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I hadn't done any of the things that I normally did with girls, yet somehow I'd fallen in love.
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What good is talking if neither of you are really committed? If one of you had an affair or got addicted to drugs or was abusive, simply talking about it wouldn;t take the hurt away; or fix the trust that's been lost. In the end, marriage comes down to actions. I think people talk too much about the things that bother them, instead of actually doing the little things that keep a marriage strong.