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Grief was just the moment before you tied the thread and began the next one.
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We must all sleep alone in the tomb, my love, but in life we are joined as one flesh - as our children attest.
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Just because you forget the world does not mean that the world forgets you.
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Did he think to win them over like this? She remembered the boyish charm he had once possessed and wondered where it had gone. Perhaps like a bag of gold dust with an open top, the winds of time had swirled it away in a glittering spiral until there was nothing left but an empty pouch.
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The rain whispered down, soft as the touch of cobwebs, shrouding the green of the land in swathes of clinging grey. Maude had grown accustomed to the damp climate, to the clouds that constantly swept in, heavy and moist, off the Irish Sea. She had become used to hearing the soft, guttural tongue of the native Gaels in place of French and the stretched vowels of the English; to feeling as if she was living on the edge of the world, where the seasons moved, but time stood still. And always it rained.
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Within her the core of rebellion hardened. She would dress as she chose, because clothes and appearance were part of a woman’s armor in this world whether Bernard of Clairvaux approved or not.
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There will be a great hole in the fabric of my being when he is gone, but not as great a hole as the one had I not known him.
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Money, influence, and human imperatives always spoke more loudly than conscience and God.
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The language of power was exercised in more than just words. It was presence and thought; it was gesture and timing.
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Because there are no winners in this sorry state of affairs. We are all losers; we are all diminished.
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I have missed you beyond all reason, and that there is not a kissing bunch large enough in that hall to show you how much.
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It alters you irrevocably when you reach 30 years old and see a rip in the fabric of your dreams for every one of those years. Suddenly you're threadbare to the world.
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The children either become like their parents or else they flee in the opposite direction.
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All that remains is regret for what might have been. It is like standing in the ashes of a fire you once approached to warm your body a little, but which burned you to the bone instead.
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Those who walk with their heads in the air usually don’t see the shit on the ground until they tread in it.
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All that remained were poignant memories, and she must face reality, not live on dreams.
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It was the truth, but that made it no more palatable.
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Just remember when temptation comes your way that a boy will drink beyond his means and a man will know when he’s had enough.
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Together they watched the fireflies twinkle in and out like hopes in the darkness.
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Grief was just the moment before you tied off the thread and began the next one. That was when you made your choice about what you were going to sew next.
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...the world was a place where those who had power could do what they wanted and those without it were the victims. The world would try to make him its victim, so it was always best to strike first.
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I've not come this far, fought this hard, loved this much to lose it all before the feast has even begun.
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There was a dark satisfaction in choosing to remain wounded, yet he had seen what happened to Henry when he cut himself off from love.
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It seemed as close as yesterday, and as distant as the end of the world.