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Quote by 肉包不吃肉

“Mo Ran, why is your face so cold…' It was as cold as ice. If I could, I would like to be a torch, waiting for you to turn back at the crossroads of the long winter night. I’m willing to burn my entire life away to light your path home. But why are you so cold? I don’t know how long I can burn, but what if when I’m exhausted and burnt out, and if when I’m extinguished, you still walk in the dark and refuse to look back?”

Quote by 肉包不吃肉

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二哈和他的白貓師尊

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肉包不吃肉

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“Shizun visits my dreams, for he knows I think of him often.' When Mo Ran had high fever, he dreamt that Chu Wanning brought him a spark of flame in a cold dark night. Mo Ran said 'where his shizun was, there was a flame. Where Chu Wanning was, there was light.”

“A great tree like this didn’t have branches that quivered like flowers, stirring affection in people’s hearts, nor did it sway with the wind like strings of vines, seductive and enticing. He only stood there in silence and severity, very steady and dependable, blocking wind and rain for the passersby without a word, allowing those under the tree to hide from the scorching sun. Perhaps it was because he’d grown too tall, too luxuriant, that people had to intentionally look up before they’d discover——Ah, so this gentle shade had been bestowed by him. But all those travelers going to and fro, not one of them had looked up, and not one of them had ever noticed him. After all, people’s lines of sight were habitually aimed at places lower than themselves, or at eye level at most.”

“He didn't dare ask for anything. He only wanted to hide. He only wanted to continue like this, slow and steady. He wouldn't dare entertain thoughts of reciprocation. If he could be allowed to quietly harbor these unrequited feelings, to like someone in secret, to treat that person well in his role as his shizun – then that would be enough, he thought. He would be quite satisfied.”

“No. That's not true. There was once warmth between us. We shared a jar of wine in a garden; we huddled under an unbrella in the rain. But you've forgotten it all, and I can't remind you it happened anymore.”

“I got me a special Chris’mas gift during the worst uv it. On Chris’mas Eve the bastids shot my heel off. I wuz already sufferin’ from the distenturry so I shit myself, an’ jist laid there in the mud an’ my own mess waiting fer Santy Claus ta come, er Jesus, but neither one uv ‘em showed up. A dog’s gratty-tude is a sacred thang, it’s allas free in the givin’, an’ they allas gives more’n they git. Dylan wuz grateful with all his big ol’ heart an’ soul, without ever askin’ nuthin’ in return. It shamed me ta be the receiver uv such pure gratty-tude. Some folks like ta say dog is God spelt back’ards an’ I figger they’s somethin’ in that—I ain’t a deep-thinkin’ man but I take it as a message.”

“My desperation to be loved is certainly outsize, and it has caused me to act out in ways that are undeniably insane. Yet I suspect that parts of my story may feel familiar to many of my readers—especially my female readers, who, like me, may have been socialized since birth to believe that they did not possess much inherent value but were estimable only insofar as they were capable of making themselves attractive enough to be chosen. Failing to succeed in this massively important project of proving yourself worthy of being chosen meant that you were a failure, and that nothing else you ever manifested would have much significance in anyone’s eyes. Or at least that’s what endless generations of women across a multitude of cultures have been taught—and that’s what I was taught, too. Sex has always been the fastest and most direct way for me to feel thoroughly chosen, but what I’m really looking for in my romantic encounters is the love, attention, validation, and approval (“LAVA” in the parlance of recovery) that other humans can sometimes provide, and without which I have often felt like I would quite literally die. Thus I have spent my entire life searching for that magical person who will see me and save me—whether in the short term or the long term. When my plan for salvation with one person didn’t work out (and it never worked out), I just went looking for LAVA with someone else.”

“On the fourth day, we came upon a cavern with a perfectly still pool that gave the illusion of a night sky, its depths sparkling with tiny luminescent fish. Mal and I were slightly ahead of the others. He dipped his hand in, then yelped and drew back. “They bite.” “Serves you right,” I said. “‘Oh, look, a dark lake full of something shiny. Let me put my hand in it.’” “I can’t help being delicious,” he said, that familiar cocky grin flashing across his face like light over water. Then he seemed to catch himself. He shouldered his pack, and I knew he was about to move away from me. I wasn’t sure where the words came from: “You didn’t fail me, Mal.” He wiped his damp hand on his thigh. “We both know better.” “We’re going to be traveling together for who knows how long. Eventually, you’re going to have to talk to me.” “I’m talking to you right now.” “See? Is this so terrible?” “It wouldn’t be,” he said, gazing at me steadily, “if all I wanted to do was talk.” My cheeks heated. You don’t want this, I told myself. But I felt my edges curl like a piece of paper held too close to fire. “Mal—” “I need to keep you safe, Alina, to stay focused on what matters. I can’t do that if . . .” He let out a long breath. “You were meant for more than me, and I’ll die fighting to give it to you. But please don’t ask me to pretend it’s easy.” He plunged ahead into the next cave. I looked down into the glittering pond, the whorls of light in the water still settling after Mal’s brief touch. I could hear the others making their noisy way through the cavern. “Oncat scratches me all the time,” said Harshaw as he ambled up beside me. “Oh?” I asked hollowly. “Funny thing is, she likes to stay close.” “Are you being profound, Harshaw?” “Actually, I was wondering, if I ate enough of those fish, would I start to glow?” I shook my head. Of course one of the last living Inferni would have to be insane. I fell into step with the others and headed into the next tunnel. “Come on, Harshaw,” I called over my shoulder. Then the first explosion hit.”