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It was hard to believe there was so much money in all this bitter and poverty-stricken world. So much money, so very much money, and someone else had it, someone who took it lightly and didn't need it.
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Why will people persist in reading strange meanings into the simplest of story? Is it not enough that a writer can entertain for a few hours with narrative without being suspected of 'significances' or symbolism or 'social trends'?
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If! If! If! There were so many ifs in life, never any sense of security, always the dread of losing everything.
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But she knew that no matter what beauty lay behind, it must remain there. No one could go forward with a load of aching memories.
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Make up your mind to this. If you are different, you are isolated, not only from people of your own age but from those of your parents' generation and from your children's generation too. They'll never understand you and they'll be shocked no matter what you do. But your grandparents would probably be proud of you and say: 'Theres a chip off the old block,' and your grandchildren will sigh enviously and say: 'What an old rip Grandma must have been!' and they'll try to be like you.
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The Irish are the damnedest race. They put so much emphasis on so many wrong things.
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Say you’ll marry me when I come back or, before God, I won’t go. I’ll stay around here and play a guitar under your window every night and sing at the top of my voice and compromise you, so you’ll have to marry me to save your reputation.
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All she wanted was a breathing space in which to hurt.
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Babies, babies, babies. Why did God make so many babies? But no, God didn't make them. Stupid people made them.
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Anyone as selfish and determined as you are is never helpless.
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It's a curse - this not wanting to look on naked realities. Until the war, life was never more real to me than a shadow show on a curtain. And I preferred it so. I do not like the outlines of things to be too sharp. I like them gently blurred, a little hazy.
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The way to get a man interested and to hold his interest was to talk about himself, and then gradually lead the conversation around yourself—and keep it there.
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Yes, as Rhett had prophesied, marriage could be a lot of fun. Not only was it fun but she was learning many things. That was odd in itself, because Scarlett had thought life could teach her no more. Now she felt like a child, every day on the brink of a new discovery.
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Perhaps - I want the old days back again and they'll never come back, and I am haunted by the memory of them and of the world falling about my ears.
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Some mistakes are too much fun to make only once.
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I can't think about that right now. If I do, I'll go crazy. I'll think about that tomorrow.
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I'll think of it tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day.
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What will the South be like without all our fine boys? What would the South have been if they had lived?
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All wars are sacred to those who have to fight them. If the people who started wars didn't make them sacred, who would be foolish enough to fight?
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I'm tired of saying "How wonderful you are!" to fool men, who haven't got one half sense I've got.