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— Vladimir Nabokov"Nostalgia in reverse, the longing for yet another strange land, grew especially strong in spring."
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I’m not going,” he said. He held up the Third key like a weapon. Sensing his mood, it grew longer and sharper, till he was holding a trident as long as he was tall... “And anyone who tries to make me is going to suffer.” “Twice,” added the voice under the table.
— Garth Nix
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Then I grew up, and the beauty of succulent illusions fell away from me.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald
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