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1 " I couldn’t trust my own mind anymore, which wasthe scariest thing I’ve ever experienced. "
― Felicia Day , You're Never Weird on the Internet (Almost)
2 " the answer is to just let gothe betrayal is to the pastthe cocoon dangles emptythe desire outlasts the objectthe effort lingersthe frustration is in how pointless the effort wasthe ghost does not make itself transparentthe heart knows nothing except its own mindthe ideas are not enoughthe jealousy is always therethe killing blow is sometimes the softestthe life you lead can be detouredthe moment you know cannot be taken backthe new you will try to bury the old methe opportunity has passedthe past is inopportunethe questions all grow from whythe reality will always be contendedthe sadness will ebbthe trouble is the time it might takethe ugly words cannot be erased, only discreditedthe versions are never the samethe wonder is that we make it throughthe x is the unknown variablethe yesterday cannot be repeatedthe zenith is the point when you look down and realize you’re no longer below "
― David Levithan , The Realm of Possibility
3 " There was, I think, a prevailingimpression common to the provincial mind, that his misfortune wasthe result of the defective moral quality of his being a stranger. "
― Bret Harte
4 " They sat in a sphere of quiet, save the sound of theirbreathing and the carriage’s creaks and sways. Outside,the coachman yelled his encouragement to the steedsmoving them forward. The whole carriage cocoonedthem in a peculiar world with the heaven’s wool-thickmists pressing against the windows. Her hand didn’t stop rubbing his neck, but sheshifted her leg, bending her knee to rest her leg onhis thigh. Her patten slipped off, dropping to the floorwith a thud. Cyrus’s head moved off the squab. “Are youundressing for my benefit?” His smile’s wicked curve played on her. From herstays to her drawers, everything was too tight, toomuch against her skin. Cyrus reached for her handworking his neck muscles. He brought it to his lips andkissed her knuckles thrice with slow adoration. “We don’t have to stop,” she said, her voice breathyand quick. “I’m sure you have more aches and pains.” Mid-kiss, he smiled against the back of her hand, hiswarm breath brushing her skin. “There are so many ways a man could go withthat.” Humor lightened his voice. “But I’m sure youmean to provide tender care to my neck only.” She grinned at her unintended innuendo. This wasthe experience she craved—to flirt and tease, to kissand touch. Cyrus put his lips to her wrist, marking herwith hot kisses. A spangle of pleasure shot up her arm. “You would break down the meanest soul withyour soft heart.” He set her hand on the blanket’sscratchy folds, his thumb caressing her wrist. “High praise, indeed, sir.” Tinseled sparks danced across her skin, not lettingher recover from those gentle touches, his lips to herarm. He stroked a lone finger on her hand that restedbetween them. “And you don’t care one bit that I’m the son of aMidland swine farmer, do you?” Cyrus asked the unexpected question, but his voiceconveyed confidence in her answer. Was her chivalrousbrawler showing a hidden spot? She peered athim, wanting a better view of his shadowed features. How was she to decipher this latest turn? The carriage bumped and rocked, and the outsidecandle lantern swung another shaft of light inside. Hisquicksilver stare pinned her. “Miss Mayhew, have you ever wondered how afreehold farmer got to be in such a fine place? "
5 " Yaicha and Darren told me that I wasthe mailman's child,and I got so angry,stalking away,hot steam in my ribs.Yaicha and Darrentold me that I was the mailman's childand now I am thinkinghow wonderful it would beto havethe mailman asmy father. "
― Thalia Chaltas , Because I Am Furniture