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Quote by Maggie Thrash

“But I knew. He was punishing me. Just like his wife, I'd failed to be the woman he needed me to be to make his life meaningful. (Page 296)”

Quote by Maggie Thrash

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Rainbow Black

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Maggie Thrash

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“…the sad part is, that I will probably end up loving you without you for much longer than I loved you when I knew you. Some people might find that strange. But the truth of it is that the amount of love you feel for someone and the impact they have on you as a person, is in no way relative to the amount of time you have known them.”

“If the real deal represents an ideal and fakes represent attempts to realize that ideal, then perhaps it is actually better if the real deal didn't exist. Well, maybe that's going too far, but if the real deal is an ideal, then we can also wonder if it is an illusion. Of course, what people idolize as the real thing must have begun as the pursuit of an ideal, which is to say that it wasn't the real thing from the outset. If we roughly define the real deal's value as the impact it has on people, however, perhaps it is the real deal, after all, that gives rise to real deals. Given the above, rather than say that the two concepts of real and fake form a pair, it may be more accurate to say that they are just two sides of the same coin.”

“The very act of doubting our reality indicates a flicker of suspicion, a seed of uncertainty germinating in our subconscious. Perhaps this nagging sense of unease, this wondering if something isn’t altogether as it should be, is a clue, a whisper from the wellspring of our being that there’s more to this existence than meets the eye.”

“What if the world we inhabit—with all its confounding complexities and contradictions—is nothing more than an elaborate stage set, a grand illusion orchestrated by a poorly understood force? If this were true, how could we possibly know for certain? What signs or signals might betray the actual nature of our world and our place in it?”

“Like a lighthouse keeper drawn to his window to gaze once again at the sea, or a prisoner automatically searching for the sun we he steps into the yard for his hour of exercise, Ruth looked for the water mark several times during the day. She knew it was there, would always be there, but she needed to confirm its presence. Like the keeper of the lighthouse and the prisoner, she regarded it as a mooring, a checkpoint, some stable visual object that assured her that the world was still there; that this was life and not a dream. That she was alive somewhere, inside, which she acknowledged to be true only because a thing she knew intimately was out there, outside herself.”