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I could tell them about the different kinds of rain, pouring rain that's perfect for when you want to stay inside and watch a movie or read, or piercing rain that feels like needles on your skin, or soft summer rain that makes your first kiss with your first love all the sweeter.
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There is only him and me and this thing between us that I cannot name, not out loud, but that my heart knows is love.
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I'm running as if the force of the wind whipping around my body will be enough to keep all the pieces of me from crumbling.
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Old people die. It's what they do.
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Power isn't control at all-power is strength, and giving that strength to others. A leader isn't someone who forces others to make him stronger; a leader is someone willing to give his strength to others that they may have the strength to stand on their own.
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Maybe one day the smears of paint Harley left throughout Godspeed will fade, and maybe the stars never will, but i'd rather have Harley's colors.
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A good book will give you answers to questions you didn't know you had. A great book will give you questions to answers you thought you knew.
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Like walking through water. Like drowning.
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I love to write the weird and creepy stuff!
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FAILURE IS INEVITABLE. I will fail. We all will. And having failed, and gotten back up, and failed again, taught me that I can survive failure. This is a downfall in most modern stories: the hero always wins. Because while this story is inspiring, it’s also false. In reality, not everyone wins. It’s 100% true that no one wills all the time, and we expect that—every hero must fall at least once. But it’s also 100% true that some people never win at all, and that’s the thing we try so hard to ignore behind the pretty stories. I could spend the rest of my life trying to be a prima ballerina, and it would not happen. I would fail at that for the rest of my life. FAILURE TEACHES US WHO WE ARE. Because even though I know I would fail forever at being a prima ballerina, I also know that I am not someone who should be a prima ballerina. It’s not who I am, it’s not what I want. Of course I would fail at it.
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I run and run and run. Past the hospital, through the garden, past a pond. And to the cold metal wall. I stop, gulping at the air, my heart racing in my ears. I reach up with one hand and touch the wall. My fingers curl into a fist, but it falls weakly to my side. And that's when I realize there is no where to run. 'But', my heart whispers, 'there is Elder.
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I stare at the stars... And even though there are so many and they look so close together, I know they are light years apart. The glitter in the sky looks as if I could scoop it all up in my hands and let the stars swirl and touch one another, but they are so distant, so very far apart, that they cannot feel the warmth of each other, even though they are made of burning. This is the secret of the stars, I tell myself. In the end, we are alone. No matter how close you seem, no one else can touch you.
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This journey... it's long. He says this as if he's felt all 250 years of travel.
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Everyone has wounds; everyone pretends they don’t.
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I can think of nothing but the stars. It is like a piece of my soul had been lost, empty, and it is now filled with the light of a million stars. They are all that I have ever dreamed of; they are nothing that I ever expected... I will never, never be the same. I have seen stars. Real stars.
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And in her smile I see something more beautiful than the stars.
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Because if I break, they'll break too. It's a responsibility I'd never really felt before, or at least I never thought about enough to name. But, Bo's actions just cement my place in my family. He can walk away from the dinner table. I can't.
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Amy looks up at me, her eyes melting jade.
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The first cause of discord is difference. There is no religion on Godspeed. We all speak the same language. We're all monoethnic. And because we are not different, we don't fight. Remember the Crusades I taught you? The genocides? We will never have to worry about those types of horrific events on Godspeed.
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This is... mating, it's not love.
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She is trying to control me with fear, because she cannot control me any other way. My eyes open wide. They burn as if they are on fire—no, as if they are made of fire. Eyes are the window to the soul.
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The silence in our house now is born from the need for intense concentration, as we all carefully step around the truth we wish we didn't know, the person we can't help that Bo became, the future we're all afraid is collapsing around us, falling as silent and cold and crushing as snow.
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Emotion courses through my veins, choking me. I feel so insignificant, a tiny speck surrounded by a million stars. A million suns.
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I've never seen the stars before. And I never knew they were so beautiful.