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In her, ignorance and stupidity formed a perfect shield against the world: this, I suppose, is innocence.
It’s a great thing, prayer. Nobody answers, but at least it stops you from thinking.
Give me the shadow every time, and you can keep the substance
I wondered if I was falling in love with her, and decided that I was, and that I didn’t care, anyway—which is a sure sign.
Who pays the piper calls the tune.
