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	Nobody's life is filled with perfect little moments. And if it were, they wouldn't be perfect little moments. They would just be normal. How would you ever know happiness if you never experience downs?   
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	We have a tendency to put ourselves last, we concentrate on everything else; work, friends, family, home issues, but we ignore the deeper stuff until it becomes so compressed that it can explode.   
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	Remember that happiness is a way of travel, it's not a destination.   
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	I don't know why, but there's always the part of you, the part that hides in the shadows protecting the self-destruct button, that doesn't ever want to leave the dark behind.   
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	Chin up, don’t smile, don’t cry, don’t fall, walk.   
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	When you're on your own, you look for signs. Sometimes you make them up, sometimes they're actually there, but most of the time you can't tell the difference from the two.   
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	There was a magic about the sea. People were drawn to it. People wanted to love by it, swim in it, play in it, look at it. It was a living thing that was as unpredictable as a great stage actor: it could be calm and welcoming, opening its arms to embrace it's audience one moment, but then could explode with its stormy tempers, flinging people around, wanting them out, attacking coastlines, breaking down islands.   
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	If miracles had chemical equations then everyone would believe.   
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	I make it easier for people to leave by making them hate me a little.   
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	Every single time you crossed over for me and met me on my side. I realize now, I don't think I ever met you in the middle. And I don't think I ever once said that you for that.   
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	the important thing is not what we (look) like,but the role we play in our best friend's life.   
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	I always want my books to reach a positive point in the end.   
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	Every single ordinary person has an extraordinary story.   
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	We all make mistakes, some bigger than others, but none of us is perfect.   
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	There is absolutely nothing wrong with returning to the house you grew up in every now and again. It's good for the soul.   
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	Paths are so much clearer when people stop looking at what everyone else is doing and instead concentrate on themselves ~Gabe   
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	I'm never overwhelmed or under it either; just nicely whelmed. I'm OK. Nothing spectacular but sometimes special. I look in the mirror and see this medium average person. A little tired, a little sad, but not falling apart.   
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	She was tired of hugging pillows, counting on blankets for warmth, and reliving romantic moments only in her dreams. She was tired of hoping that every day would hurry so she could get on to the next. Hoping that it would be a better day, an easier day. But it never was. Worked, paid the bills, and went to bed but never slept. Each morning the weight on her shoulders got heavier and heavier and each morning she wished for night to fall quickly so she could return to her bed to hug her pillows and wrap herself in the warmth of her blankets.   
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	Today I love you more than ever; tomorrow I will love you even more. I need you more than ever, I want you more than ever.   
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	Yesterday was a closed book, tomorrow, however, was another story.   
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	I believe in the magic of books. I believe that during certain periods in our lives we are drawn to particular books--whether it's strolling down the aisles of a bookshop with no idea whatsoever of what it is that we want to read and suddenly finding the most perfect, most wonderfully suitable book staring us right in the face. Unblinking. Or a chance meeting with a stranger or friend who recommends a book we would never ordinarily reach for. Books have the ability to find their own way into our lives.   
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	You know, sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.' 'And yet it is still extremely funny.   
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	Their plan had been very simple: to stay together for the rest of their lives.   
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	Holly smiled weakly. Gerry would know exactly how she was feeling, he would know exactly what to say and he would know exactly what to do. He would give her one of his famous hugs and all her problems would melt away. She grabbed a pillow from her bed and hugged it tight. She couldn't remember the last time she hugged someone, really hugged someone. And the depressing thing was that she couldn't imagine ever embracing anyone the same way again.   
