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Kindle Notes & Highlights
Beware the fury of a patient man —John Dryden
But there was more than one hell, and he hadn’t seen them all quite yet.
It was hard not having a soul, most especially when you could remember having had one.
Loneliness was bad enough without reflection on its misery.
Loneliness didn’t tell you what you had lost, only that something was missing.
he loved too much, cared too much, invested too much in the things and the people who touched his life.
hope really was something without limit.
The dead were gone and didn’t know or care what they’d left behind.
“It’s only murder when innocent people die.”