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In suffering we find our truest selves
Jessie Burton
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Everything man sees he takes for a toy. 'Thus is he always, forever a boy
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The night darkens, the stars unfriendly, the cold a knife upon her neck - but Nella waits, until she can no longer difference between Johannes and the darkness that carries him away
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I feel younger than eighteen but burdened as a eighty-year-old
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From little seeds great flowers grow
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