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A pity to survive night flights over St. Georges Channel only to crack my skull falling from a ladder.
— Eoin Colfer
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Bina, thank you. Bina, listen, this guy. His name wasn't Lasker. This guy-' She puts a hand to his mouth. She has not touched him in three years. It probably would be too much to say that he feels the darkness lift at the touch of her fingertips against his lips. But it shivers, and light bleeds in among the cracks.
— Michael Chabon
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