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Perfume & Pain
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by Anna Dorn (Goodreads Author)
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Anna Karenina
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  (page 213 of 964)
Mar 18, 2026 02:57PM

 
Book cover for Talking at Night
I’d say you just love the idea of her, then, she says. You’re pinning everything on something you’ve never even had. Something that’s not real.
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David Nicholls
“he still felt cracked and vulnerable, like a cup with a glued-on handle. Apparently, there was meant to be beauty in cracks, cracks were how the light gets in but, more importantly, they were how the liquid gets out. No one really wants a leaky cup.”
David Nicholls, You Are Here

Leila Mottley
“Unrequited love is like believing in fairies for a little too long, past the age it’s acceptable. Sure, there’s the eventual devastation that this thing you thought was real suddenly evaporated into nothing. But the worst part of it is the shame that you ever believed at all.”
Leila Mottley, The Girls Who Grew Big

Leila Mottley
“mind was always changing about him, me, us, and I was liable to float into a new world of feeling before I even realized my feet were off the ground.”
Leila Mottley, The Girls Who Grew Big

Jesse Q. Sutanto
“And that moment, as I gazed with open-mouthed wonderment at the glorious sight before me, was when I fell in love with Parker. Ellery was magic and air and sweet confusion. Parker was the earth, solid and undeniable. It was easy to lean on him. Later, I would find out it was easier still to break against him. But I didn’t see that, not then. I didn’t see beyond the excitement of discovering every weekend what he’d planned for us. I failed to grasp the fact that he, and only he, had been in charge of things.”
Jesse Q. Sutanto, Next Time Will Be Our Turn

Leila Mottley
“I like to think of sand like love. The thing that’s true ’bout both of ’em is you only ever see them for what they look like when they’re right in front of you. And isn’t that sorta reckless? To only believe the thing in front of your face, not knowing nothing about where it came from. I loved reckless once. I took what was right in front of me ’cause it looked something like love and I didn’t know different and that’s what gets us sometimes. We think we’re loving when, really, we’re believing. We’re choosing to believe the sand was always white ’cause when we sink our toes into it and the heat surrounds our feet like warm hands, it feels like it can only be God’s hands. That there wasn’t no way it wasn’t created with the earth itself. But real love—love that you see every glimpse of like knocking on the door of a glass room—shows all of itself before it materializes solid. Look close enough and you see your own face, your own hands leathery and creased. Step back and you see the whole world. The quartz tumbling down the mountain to make sand as white and soft as crushed bone.”
Leila Mottley, The Girls Who Grew Big

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