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Only enemies speak the truth. Friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty.
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Down here love wasn't meant to be for me
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cisza przyjacielu, rozdziela bardziej niż przestrzeń. cisza przyjacielu nie przynosi słów, cisza zabija nawet myśli
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choćby człowiek byl nie wiadomo jak dzielny, czasami czuje sie bardzo samotny
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And it's killin' me when you're away, I wanna leave and I wanna stay.
I'm so confused, So hard to choose.
Between the pleasure and the pain
And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right.
Even if I try to win the fight, my heart would overrule my mind.
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I don't like people, they fuck me up.
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When I was a kid I believed everything I was told, everything I read, and every dispatch sent out by my own overheated imagination. This made for more than a few sleepless nights, but it also filled the world I lived in with colors and textures I would not have traded for a lifetime of restful nights.
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Maybe there aren't any such things as good or bad friends - maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you're hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they're always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for, too, if that's what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.
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the fiction is the truth inside the lie, and the truth of this fiction is simple enough: the magic exists
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I don't want Church to be like all those dead pets! I don't want Church to ever be dead! He's my cat! He's not God's cat! Let God have His own cat! Let God have all the damn old cats He wants, and kill them all! Church is mine!
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love is the enemy... Yes. The poets continually and sometimes willfully mistake love. Love is the old slaughterer. Love is not blind. Love is a cannibal with extremely acute vision. Love is insectile; it is always hungry. It eats friendship.
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If being a kid is about learning how to live, then being a grown-up is about learning how to die.
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