Daddy used to say that calling a person a romantic was just another way of saying he or she acted without regard for conseqences.
Gabrielle ZevinTragedy is when someone ends up dead.
Everything else is just a bump in the road.
Stichwörter: truth death tragedy
Every generation spins the wheel,Anya, and where it lands defines 'the good'. Funny thing is they never know that they're spining it, and it hits something different every time.
Gabrielle ZevinHow long will I be in here?” I asked.
“Varies,” said the guard as he closed the door and locked me in. “Usually until Mrs. Cobrawick thinks you learned your lesson. I hate this job. Try not to lose your mind, girl.”
Those were the last words spoken to me for a very long time.
The guard had given me good advice, which turned out to be nearly impossible to follow.
You can't avoid orphan stories, child. Every story is an orphan story. We are all orphaned sooner or later.
Gabrielle ZevinStichwörter: orphan-stories
The heart is so peculiar. How light and how heavy it can feel at the same time.
How light.
Theo nodded slowly. "You love Balanchine chocolate like I love cacao."
"I wouldn't say love, Theo."
"No, you speak the truth. Love isn't right. It isn't right for me either. Sometimes I hate cacao." Theo looked at me. "You don't love Balanchine chocolate. You are Balanchine chocolate.
Though I hadn't had a stroke like Uncle Yuri, it was still difficult for me to express what was in my heart. I wanted to tell her that I loved her, that she was the most important person in the world to me, that I was truly sorry for having lied to her about Liberty. Instead, I asked her what she wanted for dinner.
Gabrielle ZevinWin interrupted me. "Stop," he said. "I love you, too." He paused. "You underestimate me, Annie. I'm not blind to your faults. You keep too many secrets, for one. You lie sometimes. You have trouble saying the things in your heart. You have an awful temper. You hold a grudge. And I'm not saying this one is your fault, but people who know you have a disturbing tendency to end up with bullets in them. You don't have faith in anyone, including me. You think I'm an idiot sometimes. Don't deny it--I can tell. And maybe I was an idiot a year ago, but a lot has happened since then. I'm different, Anya. You used to say I didn't know what love was. But I think I learned what it is. I learned it when I thought I had lost you over the summer. And I learned it when my leg ached something awful. And I learned it when you were gone and I didn't know if I'd ever see you again. And I learned it every night when I'd pray that you were safe even if I never got to see you again. I don't want to marry you. I'm just happy to be near you for a while, and for as long as you'll let me be. Because there's never been anyone else for me but you. There will never be anyone else for me but you. I know this. I do. Annie, my Annie, don't cry..."
(Was I crying? Yes, I suppose I was. But I was still so awfully tired. You can't possibly hold this against me.)
"I know that loving you is going to be hard, Annie. But I love you, come what may.
Does it count for anything that I just told you I love you?" Gable asked.
I considered this briefly before deciding that it didn't. "Not really. Not when I know you don't mean it.
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