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"Autumn is coming. For as long as I can remember, I've talked to the moon. Asked her for her guidance. There's something deeply spiritual about her waxing and waning. She wears a new dress every evening, yet she's always herself.And she's always there."
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"The Peace of Wild ThingsWhen despair for the world grows in meand I wake in the night at the least soundin fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,I go and lie down where the wood drakerests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.I come into the peace of wild thingswho do not tax their lives with forethoughtof grief. I come into the presence of still water.And I feel above me the day-blind starswaiting with their light. For a timeI rest in the grace of the world, and am free."

"The last scud of day holds back for me, It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds, It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun, I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love, If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.You will hardly know who I am or what I mean, But I shall be good health to your nevertheless,And filter and fibre your blood.Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,Missing me one place, search another,I stop somewhere waiting for you."

"Every mind should reflect to touch the green of life through trees."

"What need does the earth have of us?"

"What's the difference? Fill a hundred pits with dead Northmen, congratulations, have a parade! Kill one man in the same uniform as you? A crime. A murder. Worse than despicable. Are we not all men? All blood and bone and dreams?"
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"Because that's the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don't want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lungs. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It's mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time."

"I mean, really. Who sends their kid to boarding school? It's so Hogwarts. Only mine doesn't have cute boy wizards or magic candy or flying lessons."

"Phones are distracting. The internet is distracting.The way he looked at you? He wasn't distracted. He was consumed."

"If I weren't standing next to your boyfriend, I'd be tempted to ask you out myself.'She blushes, and St. Clair bounds inside the box office and wrestles her into a hug. 'Miiiiiiiiine!' he says.'Cut it out.' Anna pushes him off, laughing. 'You'll get fired. And then I'll have to support your sorry arse for the rest of our lives."

"The directness of her question throws me. 'I don't know. Sometimes I think there are only so many opportunities...to get together with someone. And we've both screwed up so many times'- my voice grows quiet - 'that we've missed our chance.'Anna.' Mer pauses. 'That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.'But-'But what? You love him, and he loves you, and you live in the most romantic city in the world."

"I'm sorry,' he says.'What? Why?'You're fixing everything I set down.' He nods at my hands, which are readjusting the elephant. 'It wasn't polite of me to come in and start touching your things.'Oh, it's okay,' I say quickly, letting go of the figurine. 'You can touch anything of mine you want.' would be so bad."

"I have a rule.'Elaborate.'The statue is still warm from the previous visitors. 'I ask myself, if the worst happened-if I did get knocked up-would I be embarrassed to tell my child who his father was? If the answer is anywhere even remotely close to yes, then there's no way.'He nods slowly. 'That's a good rule."

"Soap?'School of America in Paris' he explains. 'SOAP'.Nice. My father sent me here to be cleansed."
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