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I guess that was going to be my new thing. I couldn't exactly storm away in anger. I'd just have to close my eyes and shut out the universe.
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She was a counselor, a therapist, a beautiful woman. He was nothing. That’s what he was.
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Mostly, I think people are fake. Well, what do you expect? The fake world we live in conspires to make us all fakes.
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I felt alone, but not in a bad way. I really liked being alone. Maybe I liked it too much.
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Scars. A sign that you've been hurt. A sign that you have been healed. Had I been hurt? Had I been healed? Maybe we just lived between hurting and healing.
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I fell in love with the thunder.
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Sometimes when people talk, they don't always tell the truth.
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A girl is like a tree? Yeah, and a guy is about as smart as a piece of dead wood infested with termites.
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Some people are so beautiful that they belong everywhere they go.
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Don’t, amor. Te adoro. I’ve already lost a son. I’m not going to lose another. You’re not alone, Ari. I know it feels that way. But you’re not.” “How can you love me so much?” “How could I not love you? You’re the most beautiful boy in the world.
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I closed my eyes and let the water rush over me and I wondered what it would be like to be as soft as water, to make people clean, to quench people's thirst. That would be a beautiful thing, to be like water.
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Turning the pages patiently in search of meanings.
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I knew I’d gone crazy but I couldn’t explain it to myself. Maybe that’s what happens when you go crazy. You just can’t explain it. Not to yourself. Not to anyone. And the worst part about going crazy is that when you’re not crazy anymore, you just don’t know what to think of yourself.
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You are what you remember.
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A country will never love you like a woman.
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He tried not to laugh, but he wasn't good at controlling all the laughter that lived inside of him.
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And then Fito sort of hung his head and he was blinking his eyes, like he was trying to blink away all the tears that he’d held inside all his life.
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Had a theory that everyone has a relationship with words—whether they know it or not. It’s just that everybody’s relationship with words is different.
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So what if sometimes Sam was an emotional exhibitionist, going up and down all the time? She could be a storm. But she could be a soft candle lighting up a dark room. So what if she made me a little crazy? All of it—all her emotional stuff, her ever-changing moods and tones of voice—it made her seem so incredibly alive.
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I came to you one rainless August night. You taught me how to live without the rain. You are thirst and thirst is all I know. You are sand, wind, sun, and burning sky, The hottest blue. You blow a breeze and brand Your breath into my mouth. You reach—then bend Your force, to break, blow, burn, and make me new. You wrap your name tight around my ribs And keep me warm. I was born for you. Above, below, by you, by you surrounded. I wake to you at dawn. Never break your Knot. Reach, rise, blow, Sálvame, mi dios, Trágame, mi tierra. Salva, traga, Break me, I am bread. I will be the water for your thirst.
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The problem with parents is that they're adults.
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I felt like I was the saddest boy in the universe. Summer had come and gone. Summer had come and gone. And the world was ending.
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My life was still someone else's idea.
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Salvation is too heavy a load for a child to carry.