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Didn't you finish your chemistry in school?" "You closed the school and burnt all the books." "Ah, so I did.
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Flakes of white fall thru the trees and onto the road, catching on our clothes and hair. It's a silent fall and it's weird how it makes everything else seem quiet, too, like it's trying to tell you a secret, a terrible, terrible secret.
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And here was a man who lived on belief, but who sacrificed it at the first challenge, right when he needed it most.
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I just stand there like a doofus wondering just what in the effing blazes is going on.
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You love him," he says. Not an asking, just a fact. "I do," I say. Also a fact.
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Noise ain't Truth, Noise is what men want to be true, and there's a difference twixt those two things so big that it could ruddy well kill you if you don't watch out.
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Stories don’t end with the writers, however many started the race.
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You tell a man the truth about himself and, well, they find they have trouble accepting it.
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Being a leader is making the people you love hate you a little more each day.
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Stories were wild, wild animals and went off in directions you couldn't expect.
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Nobody has to tell nobody nothing,” I say, taking another step forward. “You never were a poet, were you, Todd?” he says.
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I'll do it, Todd," I whisper. "I'll come with you." And he doesn't say anything, just squeezes my hand harder and brings it up to his face like he wants to breathe me in.
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Faith with proof is no faith at all.
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War makes monsters of men, you once said to me Todd. Well, so does too much knowledge. Too much knowledge of your fellow man, too much knowledge of his weakness, his pathetic greed and vanity, and how laughably easy it is to control him.
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Don't think you haven't lived long enough to have a story to tell.
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I want a campfire box.
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"No," he says, taking us both in. "No, no, no. You've come farther than most people on this planet will in their lifetimes. You've overcome obstacles and dangers and things that should've killed you. You've outrun an army and a madman and deadly illness and seen things most people will never see. How do you think you could have possibly come this far if you didn't have hope?"
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Don't deceive me. Never leave me.
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And if one day,' she said, really crying now, 'you look back and you feel bad for being so angry, if you feel bad for being so angry at me that you couldn't even speak to me, then you have to know, Conor, you have to that is was okay. It was okay. That I knew. I know, okay? I know everything you need to tell me without you having to say it out loud.
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But a knife ain't just a thing, is it? It's a choice, it's something you do. A knife says yes or no, cut or not, die or don't. A knife takes a decision out of your hand and puts it in the world and it never goes back again.
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There is not always a good guy. Nor is there always a bad one. Most people are somewhere in between.
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So we forgive each other?" The crooked smile climbs up one more time. "Again?" And I look right into his eyes, right into him as far as I can see, because I want him to hear me, I want him to hear me with everything I mean and feel and say. "Always," I say to him. "Every time.
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Librarians open up the world. Knowledge is useless if you don't even know where to begin to look. How much more can you discover when someone can point you in the right direction, when someone can maybe even give you a treasure map, to places you may not have even thought you were allowed to go? This is what librarians do.
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And then his noise falls completely silent- And he stops struggling- And looking right into my eyes- He dies. My Todd dies.