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Even when I look straight into the milky blue eyes I can't find myself any more. When did I stop being me?
Sara Gruen
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Sara Gruen
Age: 55
Born: 1969
Born: January 1
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Vancouver
British Columbia
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More quotes by Sara Gruen
I'm truly grateful for my microwave, which allows me to easily clarify butter, steam vegetables, and - when I am really lazy - feed my three kids in less than five minutes.
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Don't want to get tipsy and break a hip.
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I don't like outlining, because books are organic things. Sometimes a book doesn't want to be written in a certain way.
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When two people are meant to be together, they will be together. It's fate.
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But it all zipped by. One minute Marlena and I were up to our eyeballs, and the next thing we knew the kids were borrowing the car and fleeing the coop for college. And now, here I am. In my nineties and alone.
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I tend not to think about the reading public at all, or the business, when I'm writing.
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The thought has cheered me, and I'd like to hang onto that. Must protect my little pockets of happiness.
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...if you expect people to try to do things your way, you're going to have to give some hints as to what that way is.
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I stroke her lightly, memorizing her body. I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I lie motionless, savoring the feeling of her body against mine. I'm afraid to breathe in case I break the spell.
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How is it that everyone on this train has so much alcohol? We always head to Canada at the beginning of the season, she says taking her seat again. Their laws are much more civilized. Cheers.
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You work hard on a book and throw it out there and then it's beyond your control.
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He stares at me, and then leans back in his chair. He's ill, Jacob. I say nothing. He's a paragon schnitzophonic. He's what?! Paragon schnitzophonic, repeats Uncle Al. You mean paranoid schizophrenic? Sure. Whatever. But the bottom line is he's mad as a hatter.
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You do right by me, I'll show you a life most suckers can't even dream of.
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I want her to melt into me, like butter on toast. I want to absorb her and walk around for the rest of my days with her encased in my skin. I want.
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Then I lie down on the horse blanket and drift into a dream about Marlena that will probably cost me my soul.
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Being the survivor stinks.
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I just can't. I'm married. I made my bed and now I have to lie in it.
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Even as your body betrays you, your mind denies it.
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Must protect my little pockets of happiness.
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Gorillas are in danger of being wiped out by the Ebola virus. I feel like we have limited time to get to know them and understand them and they're going to disappear - that's terrifically sad. Wouldn't it be great if we could stop that?
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