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But I know the difference. Everyone else is a ghost. I exist here alone, stranded by choice. Deserted.
Rachel Cohn
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Rachel Cohn
Age: 55
Born: 1968
Born: December 14
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Writer
Silver Spring
Maryland
Choices
Stranded
Everyone
Deserted
Else
Ghost
Exist
Choice
Difference
Differences
Alone
More quotes by Rachel Cohn
So he's worth a second shot? The more apt question, my dear, is: are you?
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No--when the rain falls you just let it fall and you grin like a madman and you dance with it, because if you can make yourself happy in the rain then you're doing pretty alright in life. (Nick, page 156)
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One of the failures of cellular communication is that tiredness often comes across as sadness.
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The universe doesn't decide what's right or not right. You do.
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Things change all the time, mostly in little ways.
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Well what's in your Amazonian hope chest?
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It's the great male fantasy-all it takes is one dance to know that she's the one. All it takes is the sound of her song from the tower, or a look at her sleeping face. And right away you know-this is the girl in your head, sleeping or dancing or singing in front of you. Yes, girls want princes, but boys want their princesses just as much.
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They were tricky, those demons. Could they be trusted? Of course they could be trusted. She'd created them. She owned them. They wouldn't lead her astray.
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Bruises mapped my body from bumping into tables and tripping over curbs while walking with a book in my hand, my eyes focused on the pages instead of the live space around me.
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What's better, I wonder - to be a toy for the humans, or to control your own destiny , even if the only way to do so is suicide?
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Answer all the questions that I'm too afraid to ask
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Hope and belief. I'd always wanted hope, but never believed that I could have such an adventure on my own. That I could own it. And love it. But it happened.
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There is no such thing as a soulmate...and who would want there to be? I don't want half of a shared soul. I want my own damn soul.
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When in doubt, ingest carbs.
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But she's not, and I am left to wonder on my own: How does this work, the getting to know a new guy without revealing too much desperation for his undivided attention?
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The desert adapts. The people adapt. Live. Die. Struggle. Suffer. Create. The people in the real world beyond Demesne's ring are not all manufactured perfection. They deal.
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There’s no such thing as ready,” she says. “There’s only willing.
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The best is when we all go at once, like an army of interrelated popcorn zombies who laugh the same laughs and gasp the same gasps and aren’t so germ-phobic with each other that we won’t share a ginormous Coke with one straw. Family is useful like that.
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I particularly loved the adjective bookish, which I found other people used about as often as ramrod or chum or teetotaler.
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Better to end this dream before it becomes a nightmare.
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