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— Anne Rice"But during all these years I had a vague but persistent desire to return to New Orleans. I never forgot New Orleans. And when we were in tropical places and places of those flowers and trees that grow in Louisiana, I would think of it acutely and I would feel for my home the only glimmer of desire I felt for anything outside my endless pursuit of art."
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I could not cry for my own brother; he would not want me to. But I found myself crying for this hated stranger and the endless slaughter that I had almost contributed to." (page 8)
— Amelia Atwater-Rhodes
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From here on out, there's just reality. I think that's what maturity is: a stoic response to endless reality. But then, what do I know?
— Carrie Fisher
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