No one you love is ever truly lost.
Ernest HemingwayMots clés the-paris-wife
Maybe happiness was an hourglass already running out, the grains tipping, sifting past each other. Maybe it was a state of mind.
Paula McLainMots clés happiness the-paris-wife paula-mclain
It was as if we'd pressed ourselves together until his bones passed through mine and we were the same person, ever so briefly.
Paula McLainMots clés love the-paris-wife
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