"The knocking continues. The whole world seems very still. For some reason I find myself remembering a moth pupa stirring in the warmth of a train compartment somewhere between the unforgotten past and the unforeseeable future. Someone is calling my name. Since I appear to be alone in this pleasant and suddenly quite useless villa, I believe I must go and see who it is."

Paul Russell, The Unreal Life of Sergey Nabokov

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Oh God, that Denis Johnson story with the smooshed bunnies...even just thinking of it makes me cover my face with my hands.

From The Post-Birthday World, by Lionel Shriver:

"Well. Did you make the right choice?"

"Yes," she determined, with a little frown. "I think so."

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"She wondered if he would remember all they had been through. She knew there was a good chance he would not, not the detail. He was young enough to be anyone. The world was his. He was a prince, and, finally, she understood why.

She was not a girl that cried, but right then tears fell as she allowed the dam to break.

She cried for everythng she had lost, and everything he had found.

Duchess pressed hr palm to the glass and said goodbye to her brother.

----We Begin at the End by Chris Whitaker

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