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Suddenly, and for the first time, he was at the center of his own life, living it and loving it.
Mary Balogh
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Mary Balogh
Age: 80
Born: 1944
Born: March 24
Novelist
Writer
Abertawe
Loving
Living
Firsts
First
Time
Life
Center
Suddenly
More quotes by Mary Balogh
Sometimes now was enough. Sometimes it was everything.
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The worst thing about loneliness is that it brings one face to face with oneself.
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I do beg you to have some regard for my pride. A million years? I assure you I would stop asking after the first thousand.
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Everyone was a rose but even more complex than a mere flower. Everyone was made up of infinitely layered petals. And everyone had something indescribably precious at the heart of their being. No one was shallow. Not really.
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But a mother-son relationship is not a coequal one, is it? He is lonely with only you just as you are lonely with only him.
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Was memory always as much of a burden as it could sometimes be a blessing.
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If you have always suspected your sister of an inclination to madness, it will be my pleasure to confirm your worst fears.
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Even friends need private spaces, if only within the depths of their own souls, where no one else is allowed to intrude.
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Fear is a powerful beast, if it is allowed the mastery.
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There is no happily-ever-after to run to. We have to work for happiness.
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My happiness has to come from within myself or it is too fragile a thing to be of any use to me and too much of a burden to benefit any of my loved ones.
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I can be hurt, she said, only by people I respect.
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But parents, she supposed, were not the pinnacle of perfection their children thought or expected them to be. They were humans who usually did the best they could but often made the wrong choices.
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Have you noticed, she asked him, how we live much of our lives in the past and most of the rest of it in the future? Have you noticed how often the present moment slips by quiet unnoticed?
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But if one had everything one could ever need or want, what was left to dream of?
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I'm terrified that I will never be able to put him from my mind. I don't love him but I'm afraid that he will make it impossible for me ever to love anyone else.
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The bad part is life continues. The good part is that the pain goes away.
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He wished someone in the course of history had thought of striking that word and all its derivatives from the English Language - happy, happier, happiest, happiness. What the devil did the words really mean anyway? Why not just the word pleasure, which was far more... well, pleasant.
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Nothing is permanently perfect. But there are perfect moments and the will to choose what will bring about more perfect moments.
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Love does not last forever, then? He asked me the same thing this morning, she said. No, it does not - not love that has been betrayed. One realizes that one has loved a mirage, someone who never really existed. Not that love dies immediately or soon, even then. But it does die and cannot be revived.
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