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Kindle Notes & Highlights
by
T.J. Klune
Read between
October 7 - October 12, 2022
“My brain is filled with spiders burrowing their eggs in the gray matter. Soon they’ll hatch and consume me.”
“But I can have spiders in my head as long as I don’t let them consume me and then destroy the world as we know it.”
Lucy said, “You’re not dead!” He sounded strangely disappointed. “Leaders give positive reinforcement,” Talia told him. “Oh. Good job not dying!”
“It’s something small, but I think the smaller things can be just as important.”
“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”
All that sunlight. I’m used to only rain.”
A home isn’t always the house we live in. It’s also the people we choose to surround ourselves with. You may not live on the island, but you can’t tell me it’s not your home. Your bubble, Mr. Baker. It’s been popped. Why would you allow it to grow around you again?
“I am but paper. Brittle and thin. I am held up to the sun, and it shines right through me. I get written on, and I can never be used again. These scratches are a history. They’re a story. They tell things for others to read, but they only see the words, and
not what the words are written upon. I am but paper, and though there are many like me, none are exactly the same. I am parched parchment. I have lines. I have holes. Get me wet, and I melt. Light me on fire, and I burn. Take me in hardened hands, and I crumple. I tear. I am but paper. Brittle and thin.”
“Sometimes, you don’t know what you have until it’s no longer there. And I needed to be your voice. So those far away would hear you for all that you are.”