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Virginia Woolf

"What people had had shed and left-a pair of shoes, a shooting cap, some faded skirts and coats in wardrobes-those alone kept the human shape and in the emptiness indicated how once they were filled and animated; how once hands were busy with hooks and buttons; how once the looking-glass had held a face; had held a world hollowed out in which a figure turned, a hand flashed, the door opened, in came children rushing and tumbling; and went out again. Now, day after day, light turned, like a flower reflected in water, its sharp image on the wall opposite. Only the shadows of the trees, flourishing in the wind, made obeisance on the wall, and for a moment darkened the pool in which light reflected itself; or birds, flying, made a soft spot flutter slowly across the bedroom floor."

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"What people had had shed and left-a pair of shoes, a shooting cap, some faded skirts and coats in wardrobes-those alone kept the human shape and in the emptiness indicated how once they were filled and animated; how once hands were busy with hooks and buttons; how once the looking-glass had held a face; had held a world hollowed out in which a figure turned, a hand flashed, the door opened, in came children rushing and tumbling; and went out again. Now, day after day, light turned, like a flower reflected in water, its sharp image on the wall opposite. Only the shadows of the trees, flourishing in the wind, made obeisance on the wall, and for a moment darkened the pool in which light reflected itself; or birds, flying, made a soft spot flutter slowly across the bedroom floor."

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"'Tis the last rose of summer Left blooming alone; All her lovely companions Are faded and gone."

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"If I never see you again I will always carry youinsideoutsideon my fingertipsand at brain edgesand in centerscentersof what I am ofwhat remains."

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"I remembered his laugh, like a flock of crows taking off."

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"Nothing's ever gone. We fool ourselves that things fade, but they never do."

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"Percy'd heard stories about amputees who had phantom pains where their missing legsand arms used to be. That's how his mindfelt-like his missing memories were aching."

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"To forget is to blithely toss aside the hard lessons that were hard won by others before us, thereby needlessly dooming us to endure the hard lessons that are likely to be forgotten by those who will follow us. And it is altogether reasonable that in order to avoid this repetitive trouncing, God graciously granted us memories."

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"What exactly did you find in Atlanta?Frank unzipped his backpack and started bringing out souvenirs. "Some peach preserves. A couple of T-shirts. A snow globe. And, um, these not-really-Chinese handcuffs.Annabeth forced herself to stay calm. "How about you start from the top-of the story, not the backpack."

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"Memory is a few lines snipped from a larger story that we are privileged to tuck away between the pages of our minds."

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"He would have liked to know that somebody wanted to keep him alive, that someone remembered him. He used to say that we exist as long as somebody remembers us."

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"Sometimes I accidentally walk into the places where I and you had spoken before, existed before, which still have the smell ofyour memories, all of a sudden it starts feeling like I have entered a dark room without a door anywhere. Where I can always hear that song I used to love once before."

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"There is much to support the view that it is clothes that wear us, and not we, them; we may make them take the mould of arm or breast, but they mould our hearts, our brains, our tongues to their liking."
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"The telephone, which interrupts the most serious conversations and cuts short the most weighty observations, has a romance of its own."
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"It is the nature of the artist to mind excessively what is said about him. Literature is strewn with the wreckage of men who have minded beyond reason the opinions of others."
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"Let a man get up and say, Behold, this is the truth, and instantly I perceive a sandy cat filching a piece of fish in the background. Look, you have forgotten the cat, I say."
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"Really I don't like human nature unless all candied over with art."
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"The beautiful seems right by force of beauty, and the feeble wrong because of weakness."
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"Who shall measure the hat and violence of the poet's heart when caught and tangled in a woman's body?"
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"The beauty of the world, which is so soon to perish, has two edges, one of laughter, one of anguish, cutting the heart asunder."
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"This is an important book, the critic assumes, because it deals with war. This is an insignificant book because it deals with the feelings of women in a drawing-room."
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"This soul, or life within us, by no means agrees with the life outside us. If one has the courage to ask her what she thinks, she is always saying the very opposite to what other people say."
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