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Quote by Shannon Delany

“You sure are quick to strip, boy,” Dad said, clearly disapproving. “Lemme get this straight.”

Quote by Shannon Delany

Author

Shannon Delany

Limited information is available about Shannon Delany, whose profession and category are unknown. The exact birth and death dates are not provided. more

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“It was a girl. She was tall but not gawky, clad in new “first day of the semester” jeans, a white blouse that peeked out from under a navy-blue jacket, and clean new Keds girls’ sneakers. Her chestnut-colored hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and her cheeks were rosy against her pale skin, partly because it was cold outside, partly because she thought she was interrupting the class.”

“But mainly, to be human, it is... to be vulnerable. More importantly, to allow yourself to be vulnerable. To engulf yourself in vulnerability and to give yourself permission to drown in it. To be human... is to feel. To be human is to be conscious and aware of the role given to you, aware of what impact you need to make on this world. To be conscious and mindful of what energy you put out into this world, and the energy you allow yourself to receive. To be human is to experience. To make mistakes and learn from them, and make that same mistake again and learn from it once more. It is to obtain compassion and perspective and treat others with kindness, even when you, yourself, have not been treated the same. It is to move on, to detach, to go on with your life, meet new people, and repeat that endless cycle. It is to laugh and fill your body and every inch of your soul with laughter. It is to be around people who you love, who exert love, and who love you.”

“He was sunny days and sunshine and rainbows, and I was the rain. Rainy days and cloudy skies and lightning. He was the sun; beaming and substantially bright, and warmth, as we knew, encompassed him. And I was the rain; my anger could be defined as stormy, and I was a walking rain cloud, full of gloom. My mind was always cloudy, and I found myself always crying and teary-eyed, which was, in my life, symbolizing the rain free-falling from the sky and into my heart. My heart was frozen, and it was so, so cold; as cold as the chilly air. Oh, God. I was the rain.”

“I was rain, not only to myself, but to Caspian Marks, too. I wasn’t the kind of gloomy rain that was unwanted and unappreciated, though. Not to him. I was the kind that was necessary when you felt shriveled and dry; in need of something to give you energy and strength to lighten and flourish again. The kind that was like a breath of fresh air. The kind of rain that after, created rainbows. The kind of rain that was crucial—absolutely crucial—in romance movies when the most dramatic kiss of the century was cued to happen. I was Caspian Mark’s rain. I gave him energy and I revived him. I gave him air to breathe. My coldness reminded him that life was not always sunny or ideal, but would still be good, anyway. The rain, I suppose I was.”