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Bad luck relies absolutely on perfect timing
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He does everything a Marshal does but twice as hard, twice as dirty, and without the soft and cushioning arms of the government to wipe his tears.
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She is dead. Almost certainly dead. Nearly conclusively dead. She is, at the very least, not answering her telephone.
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Breaking things heals a great many hurts. This is why children do it so often.
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Everything in the universe has rhythm. Everything pulses to a beat laid down by the Big Bang. Everything feels the drumline of creation from star to sex to song.
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Men die. It's practically what they're for.
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Perhaps, if you take a long enough view, we are all stronger than our goblins.
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Why should I care about you first kiss,' he said. 'You can kiss anyone you like. But sometimes if you wanted to kiss me, that would be all right, too.
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...her cry is a hook and it catches me in the throat.
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A tale may have exactly three beginnings: one for the audience, one for the artist, and one for the poor bastard who has to live in it.
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She did not want to read this book from start to finish, or rather, she thought perhaps it did not want her to. Instead she practiced the art of bibliomancy, trusting the book to show her what it wanted her to know.
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That's your first hint that something's alive. It says no.
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Slowly, without taking his eyes from hers, the man in the black coat knelt before her. “I have come for the girl in the window,” he said, and his eyes filled with tears.
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A mother's like a poison made for only one soul.
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. . .building is medicine for free.
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Doors opened at seven, the show started at eight. In pubs and clubs and house parties across the galaxy, the viewers at home were drunk by six.
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Calpurnia squinted through her goggles and thought to herself, That is a Key. Where there is a Key, there is yet hope.
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Never assume that a woman is wicked simply because she is ugly and behaves unfavorably towards you. It is unbecoming behavior for a Prince.
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I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.
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Everything good in the world has feathers and wings and claws.
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A ring don’t make a bride, that’s all.
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Funniest thing about love, how it shakes loose when no one's looking. How the dark helps it along. Maybe that's why we dug caves so much, way back when.
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It tasted like a shade of white near blue; it tasted like the idea of pearls; it tasted like a memory nearly grasped but lost at the last moment.
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Flowers are always more serious than they appear.