Memories I had locked away have begun to break free, like shards of ice fracturing off an arctic shelf. In sleep, these broken floes drift toward the morning light of remembrance.
Tan Twan EngMots clés pg-1
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We were like two moths around a candle, I thought, circling closer and closer to the flame, waiting to see whose wings would catch fire first.
Tan Twan EngMots clés pg-186
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Anything beautiful should be given a name, do you not agree?
Tan Twan EngMots clés ch-11
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