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“The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them – words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.”
- Stephen King, “The Body”
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MY TEXTS, Archive 460 Texts
Heart of the Hunter (5) - 2011-07-04
Her Name Was Faith (4) - 2011-07-03
It's Not You (1) - 2011-07-01
The Sound of One Hand Clapping: An Old Cabin (4) - 2011-06-29
A Fragment (Rock Springs Woods) (1) - 2011-06-24
On Seeing Lavendar Daisies Again (2) - 2011-06-20
Quarry Questions (3) - 2011-06-13
Monochromatic (2) - 2011-06-09
Not the Blues Song (1) - 2011-06-08
Two Tanka (6) - 2011-06-07
Pilgrimage (5) - 2011-06-03
Sunday Ducks (3) - 2011-06-02
Little Girl in the Park (3) - 2011-05-31
Comrades In Arms (3) - 2011-05-29
"It's An Ill Wind . . ." (2) - 2011-05-27
Prometheus Knew (3) - 2011-05-26
The First Scientist (2) - 2011-05-25
Country Fog (5) - 2011-05-22
Your Own Legend Is a Leaf (2) - 2011-05-20
Even the Hill Has No Name (1) - 2011-05-18
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