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Once I turned eighteen, I could cut myself off from everyone and finally get what I wanted, which was to be on my own, once and for all. ~Ruby, pg 38
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So while it seemed like you were seeing everything, you really weren't. Just bits and pieces that looked like a whole.
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Family isn’t something that’s supposed to be static, or set. People marry in, divorce out. They’re born, they die. It’s always evolving, turning into something else.
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Hey, and for what it's worth? Friends don't leave you alone in the woods. Friends are the ones who come and take you out.
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Total commitment. You know, the idea of discovering something that, for all intents and purposes, goes against your abilities, and yet still deciding to do it anyway. That takes guts, you know?
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Now, now," my father said. "Let's just get the bags." This was typical. My father, the lone male in our estrogen-heavy household, had always dealt with any kind of emotional situation or conflict by doing something concrete and specific. Discussion of cramps and heavy flow at the breakfast table? He was up and out the door to change oil on one of our cars. Coming home in tears for reasons you just didn't want to discuss? He'd go make you a grilled cheese, which he'd probably end up eating. Family crisis brewing in a public place? Bags. Get the bags.
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Believe in yourself up here and it will make you stronger than you could ever imagine.
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I don't get it,' Caroline said, bemused. 'She's the only one with wings. Why is that?' There were so many questions in life. You couldn't ever have all the answers. But I knew this one. It's so she can fly,' I said. Then I started to run.
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Their words, like the music, had the potential to be endless.
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He shook his head. "Some people think that they like music, but they have no idea what it's really about. They're kindding themselves. Then there are people who feel strongly about music, but just aren't listening to the right stuff. They're misguided. And then there are people like me." "People like you," I said. "What kind of people are those?" "The kind who live for music and are constantly seeking it out, anywhere they can. Who can't imagine a life without it. They're enlightened."
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Oh for God's sake,' Heather said, 'I wish you two would just go out, fail miserably as a couple, and get it over with.
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Oh darling, don't be bitter. It's the first instinct of the weak.
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It was becoming clear to me that I shouldn't bother to get too attached to anything. Turn your back and you lose it. Just like that.
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Yeah. I mean, acknowledging is easy. Something happened or it didn't. But understanding... that's where things get sticky.
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I mean, it's not surprising, really. Once you love something, you always love it in some way. You have to. It's, like, part of you for good.
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There's a kind of radar that you get, after years of being talked about and made fun of by other people. You can almost smell it when it's about to happen, can recognize instantly the sound of a hushed voice, lowered just enough to make whatever is said okay. I had only been in Colby for a few weeks. But I had not forgotten.
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My point is, there are a lot of people in the world. No one ever sees everything the same way you do; it just doesn't happen. So when you find one person who gets a couple of things, especially if they're important ones... you might as well hold on to them. You know?
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The girl in the tight black dress was passing by us now, eyeing Wes and walking entirely too slowly. "Hi," she said, and he nodded at her but didn't reply. Knew it, I thought. Honestly," I said. What?" Come on. You have to admit, it's sort of ridiculous." What is?" Now that I had to define it, I found myself struggling for the right words. "You know," I said, then figured Kristy had really summed it up best. "The sa-woon." The what?
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I'm just writing what I know. I've never been much of a reader of fantasy, and I think you write what you, personally, enjoy reading.
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But those words were only the middle of the story. There was a beginning here, too.
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I would miss Colby, but it wasn't going anywhere. All the more reason why I should.
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I bet you can't eat ten bananas!" "I bet you're right.
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The world is speaking to you every day, you just don't know how to listen.
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Some things don't last forever, but some things do. Like a good song, or a good book, or a good memory you can take out and unfold in your darkest times, pressing down on the corners and peering in close, hoping you still recognize the person you see there.