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you will always be my favorite hello and hardest goodbye. P.S. i will always love you
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There aren’t many sure things in life, but one thing I know for sure is that you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. You have to follow through on some things.
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Why do we stop believing in ourselves? Why do we let facts and figures and anything but dreams rule our lives?
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Their plan had been very simple: to stay together for the rest of their lives.
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Life is everything, and you haven't lived it properly until you believe.
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Her silence was worth more to her than a thousand words.In that silence,she had peace and clarity.Except during the night,when her own jumbled thoughts would keep her awake.
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Sighs and silences and avoided conversations are just as important as the things you do talk about.
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Alone or not, you gotta walk forward.
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Well isn’t that one thing you’re all the more wise for? Age has taught you something. It seems to me that you know the big secret. That nobody knows what’s going on
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I have found that the many imbalances within our individual lives result in an overall more worldly balance. What I mean is that no matter how unfair I think something is, I need only look at the bigger picture to see how, in a way, it fits... however impossible it is to understand it or see it at the time.
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There’s something completely unnerving about seeing your parents upset. I suppose it’s because they’re supposed to be the strong ones, but that’s not just it. Ever since people are kids they use their parents as some sort of measurement for how bad a situation is. When you fall on the ground really hard and you can’t figure out whether it hurts or not you look to your parents. If they look worried and rush toward you, you cry. If they laugh and smack the ground saying “Bold ground,” then you pick yourself up and get on with it.
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Yes it's difficult. Yes it's horrible. Yes it's the worst thing that has ever happen in my whole life. But I just can't give up.
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You can run and run as fast and as far as you like, but the truth is, wherever you run, there you are.
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I always pushed myself. Whenever I felt I needed to stop, I made myself run faster.
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Often when we realize how precious those seconds are, it's too late for them to be captured because the moment has passed. We realize too late.
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So now, all alone or not, you gotta walk ahead. Thing to remember is if we're all alone, then we're all together in that too.
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People forget they have options. And they forget that those things really don't matter. They should concentrate on what they have and not what they don't have.
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It's not the job of this town to make me feel happy. It's not this town´s fault that I don't feel I fit in. It doesn't matter where you are in the world, because it's about where you are in your head. It's about the other world I inhabit. The world of dreams, hope, imagination, and memories. I'm happy up here, and because of that I'm happy up there too
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That's what life is about: People come and go.
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I love it here in Boston and I love studying medicine. But it’s not home. Dublin is home. Being back with you felt like home. I miss my best friend. I’ve met some great guys here, but I didn’t grow up with any of them playing cops and robbers in my back garden. I don’t feel like they are real friends. I haven’t kicked them in the shins, stayed up all night on Santa watch with them, hung from trees pretending to be monkeys, played hotel, or laughed my heart out as their stomachs were pumped. It’s kind of hard to beat that.
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Journalism classes teach us that one must extract oneself from the story in order to report without bias, but often we need to be in the story in order to understand, to connect, to help the audience identify or else it has no heart; it could be a robot telling the story, for all anyone cares.
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He was one of those people who made you feel like they either didn't know or didn't care that you were in the room and if they ever did acknowledge your existence it was bizarrely score one to you, and twenty years later they'd tell you they'd always had a crush on you but never had the courage to say anything and you'd tell them, What? I didn't even think you liked me? and they'd say, Are you crazy? I just never knew what to say!
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I can’t even think about what life “could have been” like in Boston, without crying. It’s like deja-vu, I don’t think me and Boston were ever meant to be.
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Day-to-day things, the mundane, are what keeps the motor running. How extraordinary the ordinary really is, a tool we all use to keep going, a template for sanity.