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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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But he didn’t know exactly where the worry was coming from. He just had a feeling. Like thunder in the sky. Only the thunder was in his stomach. There would be a storm.
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I was ashamed of myself for being ashamed of myself. I didn't like feeling like that.
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His shoes on the front porch before he came inside. The Japanese do that. They don’t bring the dirt of the world into another person’s house.
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Some people are so beautiful that they belong everywhere they go.
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I want to live in the calmness of the morning light.
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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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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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I fell in love with the thunder.
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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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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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Right then I witnessed the world they lived in go completely silent. The world was flooding with their tears.
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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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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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A country will never love you like a woman.
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Turning the pages patiently in search of meanings.
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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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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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Sam had once told him that the shape of the human heart changed every time it loved someone.
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Salvation is too heavy a load for a child to carry.
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The problem with parents is that they're adults.
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Grace, too, gives me hope. She is still so beautiful. She shaved her head, and I can see the sun there.
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My life was still someone else's idea.
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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.