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— Becca Fitzpatrick"Patch: “Let’s get out of here.” – Nora: “Where are we going?” – Patch: “You’ll see."
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This little patch of earth and this little pile of stones I can wash the dust from off my face and skin But this earth is in my bones
— Ralph McTell
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You’re impinging on my private space,” I said, inching backward. Patch gave a barely-there smile. "Impinging? This isn’t the SAT, Nora.
— Becca Fitzpatrick
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