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Two guys without a life? How much fun could that be?
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I was in love with the innocence of dogs, the purity of their affection. They didn't know enough to hide their feelings. They existed. A dog was a dog. There was such a simple elegance about being a dog that I envied.
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There was something about the sound of a man in pain that resembled the sound of a wounded animal.
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If you can quit for a day, you can quit for a lifetime.
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She looked into my eyes. I wanted to look away. But I didn't. Her eyes were like the night sky in the desert. It felt like there was a whole world living inside her. I didn't know anything about that world.
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It was good to laugh. I wanted to laugh and laugh and laugh until I laughed myself into becoming someone else. The really great thing about laughing was that it made me forget about the strange and awful feeling in my legs. Even if it was only for a minute.
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There are more songs living inside her than there are leaves on her tree.
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You should just sit them down and make them tell you. Make them be adults.
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I realized that Sam wasn’t angry at all. She was hurt. At that moment I heard all the hurt she’d ever held. And it seemed to me that the whole house had quieted down to listen to her pain.
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I didn't know what to do with that piece of information. So I just kept it inside. That's what I did with everything. Kept it inside.
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People have parties because they’re sad. They think a party will make them happy.
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I wanted to tell her that I thought she had a beautiful heart.
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I thought of what my mom had said. "You talk like a man." It was easier to talk like a man than to be one.
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I didn't think it was my job to accept what everyone said I was and who I should be.
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So if I don’t write as many letters as you do, don’t be upset. I’m not doing it to upset you, okay? This is my problem. I want other people to tell me how they feel. But I’m not so sure I want to return the favor.
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You can't make anyone be an adult. Especially an adult.
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I wondered how that felt, to really like yourself. And I wondered why some people didn't like themselves and others did. Maybe that's just the way it was.
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Maybe I’d always had the wrong idea as to who I really was.
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He didn’t know anyone could cry like that. A wind was coming from inside her.
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She wrapped her hands around my face and looked into my eyes. Her hands were old, but they were the softest, kindest hands that had ever touched me. She didn’t say anything. She just smiled.