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“You know, it is one of the most marvellous things in life to discover something unexpectedly, spontaneously, to come upon something without premeditation, and instantly to see the beauty, the sacredness, the reality of it. But a mind that is seeking and wanting to find is never in that position at all.”

“You know it’s a great read when you can relate to the characters in the book. My kids are all grown up now. However, I am always looking for good reads to give as gifts to my family, friends, and their little ones. This book brought back memories for me. I remember the first day of school when I dropped my kids off. I think I had more anxiety than they did. Thank goodness there was a teacher much like Mr. Shipman that helped me cope. This is a great read for new parents, teachers, students , and more. I hope you enjoy “The First Day Of School as much as I did and more. Sondra Stinson-Robinson”

“You know it's a matter of a whole lifetime, an infinite multitude of ramifications hidden from us. The most skillful chess-player, the cleverest of them, can only look a few moves ahead... How many moves there are in this, and how much that is unknown to us! In scattering the seed, scattering your "charity," your kind deeds, you are giving away, in one form or another, part of your personality, and taking into yourself part of another; you are in mutual communion with one another... On the other hand, all your thoughts, all the seeds scattered by you, perhaps forgotten by you, will grow up and take form. He who has received them from you will hand them on to another. And how can you tell what part you may have in the future determination of the destinies of humanity?”

“You know, it’s not about proving them wrong. It’s about becoming stronger than the version of you they once broke, the one who stayed, tried, and still wasn’t enough. It’s not even about revenge, it’s about self-respect and self-realization. Because fixing yourself after being torn apart is the loudest comeback.”

“You know, it's pretty easy reading this book to see why I was angry and confused for all those years. I lived my life being told different stories: some true, some lies and I still don't know which is which. Children are born innocent. At birth we are very much like a new hard drive - no viruses, no bad information, no crap that's been downloaded into it yet. It's what we feed into that hard drive, or in my case "head drive" that starts the corruption of the files.”

“You know, it’s such a peculiar thing—our idea of mankind in general. We all have a sort of vague, glowing picture when we say that, something solemn, big and important. But actually all we know of it is the people we meet in our lifetime. Look at them. Do you know any you’d feel big and solemn about? There’s nothing but housewives haggling at pushcarts, drooling brats who write dirty words on the sidewalks, and drunken debutantes. Or their spiritual equivalents.”

“You know it’s true.” “Even if it is,” I cried, “what does it matter? You could sleep with anybody, Wesley. So what if I walk away? So what if I have feelings for you? I was just a screw to you! You would never actually commit to me. You could never commit to anyone, but especially not to Duffy. You don’t even find me attractive.” “Bullshit,” he growled, his eyes on my face as he moved closer to me again. He was so close. My back was pressed to the wall, and Wesley stood only inches away. It had only been a week, but it felt like ages since we’d been in this kind of proximity. A shiver ran up my spine as I remembered the way his hands felt on me. The way he’d always made me feel wanted, even if he had called me the Duff. Did he? Did he find me attractive despite the nickname? How? Why? “Then why would you call me that?” I whispered. “Do you know how much it hurts? Every time you call me Duffy, do you know how shitty it makes me feel?” Wesley looked surprised. “What?” “Every time you call me that,” I said, “you’re telling me how little you think of me. How ugly I am. God, how can you possibly find me attractive when you put me down all the time.” I hissed the last words through gritted teeth. “I didn’t-” His eyes fell, staring at his shoes for a moment. I could tell he felt guilty. “Bianca, I’m sorry.” He looked into my eyes again. “I didn’t mean-” His hand reached out to touch me. “Don’t,” I snapped, shrugging away from him. I slid to the side and stepped away from the wall. I wasn’t going to be cornered. I wasn’t going to let him have the power here. “Just stop, Wesley.” It didn’t matter if some part of him found me attractive. That didn’t change things. I was just another girl he’d slept with. One among many. “I didn’t mean anything to you,” I told him. “Then why am I here?” he demanded, turning to face me again. “Why the hell am I here, Bianca?”

“You know it's love when all you want is that person to be happy, even if you're not part of their happiness.”