I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.

Mary E. Pearson

Tags: grandmothers unconditional-love



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Which weakness shall I tell her?
“I walk funny,” I say, and she’s satisfied with that.
(inside joke)

Mary E. Pearson


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Father says it will come in time. “Time heals,” he says.
I don’t tell him that I don’t know what time is.

Mary E. Pearson


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There is something about her eyes. Eyes don't breathe. I know that much. But hers look breathless.

Mary E. Pearson


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No matter how much they want it, or how much I want it, I can't make it happen. The feeling of failure is familiar. I always tried so hard to be everything they wanted

Mary E. Pearson


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My memory is coming back. It is curious how it comes. Each day, a rush of pieces, loosely connected, unimportant bits, snake through me. They click, click, click into my brain, like links being snapped together. And then they are done. A small chain of memories that fill in one tiny part of my life. They come out of nowhere, and most are not important.

Mary E. Pearson

Tags: memories



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The information. Every bit that of information that was ever in your brain. But the information is not the mind Jenna. That we've never accomplished before. What we've done with you is groundbreaking. We cracked the code. The mind is an energy that the brain produces. Think of a glass ball twirling on your fingertip. If it falls, it shatters into a million pieces. All the parts of a ball are still there, but it will never twirl with that force on your fingertip again. The brain is the same way.

Mary E. Pearson

Tags: mind information brain memories pieces ball



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I created an icicle sculpture in the snow. White on white.

Mary E. Pearson

Tags: art



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Choice
I needed it like I needed air.
Bit no one could hear me.
No one could listen.
No words. No sound.
No voice.
I couldn't even dream myself away.
Choices were made.
None of them mine.
At first I wondered if it was hell.
And then I knew it was.

Mary E. Pearson

Tags: choice



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Percentages! Those are for economists, polls, and politicians. Percentages can't define your identity.

Mary E. Pearson

Tags: identity percent



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