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Quote by Debra Anastasia

“Oh my God! I'm engaged! I'm marrying Cole!" "What?!" Livia squeezed her sister hard. "Let me see. When did this happen? Did you tell Dad? When is it going to be? How did he propose?" The men stopped their congratulatory handshake to stare at the speed-talking ladies. "Last night, not yet, four weeks from today, naked!" Kyle blurted in response The girls became a moving, jumping circle of hug. "Cole, you popped the question in your birthday suit?" Blake teased. Cole put his face in his hands. "Did not think she would share that bit of information.”

Quote by Debra Anastasia

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Poughkeepsie

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Debra Anastasia

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“Anna was, Livia is, Plurabelle's to be. Northmen's thing made southfolk's place but howmulty plurators made eachone in per-son? Latin me that, my trinity scholard, out of eure sanscreed into oure eryan! Hircus Civis Eblanensis! He had buckgoat paps on him, soft ones for orphans. Ho, Lord! Twins of his bosom. Lord save us! And ho! Hey? What all men. Hot? His tittering daugh-ters of. Whawk? Can't hear with the waters of. The chittering waters of. Flitter-ing bats, fieldmice bawk talk. Ho! Are you not gone ahome? What Thom Malone? Can't hear with bawk of bats, all thim liffey-ing waters of. Ho, talk save us! My foos won't moos. I feel as old as yonder elm. A tale told of Shaun or Shem? All Livia's daughter- sons. Dark hawks hear us. Night! Night! My ho head halls. I feel as heavy as yonder stone. Tell me of John or Shaun? Who wereShem and Shaun the living sons or daughters of? Night now! Tell me, tell me, tell me, elm! Night night! Telmetale of stem or stone. Beside the rivering waters of, hitherandthithering waters of. Night!”

“It’s hard to look back on your life and point to one event–one moment–that changed everything and set you on the path that made you…you. That only happens in movies. Most people’s lives are a series of millions of messy little moments strung together adding up to a messy little life. But sometimes, you can look back and see a pattern forming… see a clear path cutting through the mess. It makes you wonder, do we even have a choice at all? Or was that path going to form no matter what we did? Yeah, it’s easy to look back and see the pattern. It’s easy to second-guess every decision you made and figure out what you would’ve done differently. But none of that much matters now. It’s all in the past. Can’t waste time thinking about who i was, who i could’ve been. All that matters now is who i am.”

“(...) às vezes acontece-nos isso com o que se nega ou se cala, com o que se guarda e sepulta, vai-se esfumando sem remédio e chegamos a descrer que na realidade existisse ou se desse, tendemos a desconfiar incrivelmente das nossas percepções quando já são passado e não se vêem confirmadas nem ratificadas de fora por ninguém, renegamos da nossa memória às vezes e acabamos por contar a nós próprios inexactas versões daquilo que presenciámos, não confiamos como testemunhas nem em nós próprios, submetemos tudo a traduções, fazemo-las dos nossos nítidos actos e nem sempre são fiéis, para que assim os actos comecem a ser indistintos, e por fim entregamo-nos e damo-nos à interpretação perpétua, até do que nos consta e sabemos de ciência certa, e assim fazemo-lo flutuar instável, impreciso, e nunca nada está fixado nem nunca é definitivo e tudo nos baila até ao fim dos dias, talvez se dê o caso de praticamente não suportarmos as certezas, nem sequer as que nos convêm e reconfortam, para já não falar das que nos desagradam ou nos questionam ou doem, ninguém se quer transformar nisso, na sua própria dor e sua lança e sua febre.”