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“Have you ever been reading a book and found yourself having to pause for a second and read a certain part again because the author has summed up in a few sentences exactly what you were feeling at a certain point in your life; a feeling you'd never been able to put into words before and there it suddenly is laid out before you, written by someone you've never even met? It's kind of a tragically wonderful feeling.”
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“Call me cynical, call me cold-hearted, but I don't believe in just knowing and love at first sight. I just don't believe that's love. Love is knowing someone's flaws, habits and pet peeves; having to deal with their grumbling after a bad day; the weird quirks that only surface after several months of being together; living with their morning breath and farts. It's not that gushy, obsessive, in-the-moment feeling. That's a crush. And sure, they can hurt, but you'll get over them. It's not destiny.”
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“There's just never enough time to read all the books you want.”
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“I guess what I'm trying to say is that this book doesn't play by the feminist rules we've come to know and accept. But what is feminism if it isn't refusing to play by the rules?”
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“He narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you comparing me to Mr Collins?’ As he recalled it, that man’s courtships had been hasty and ludicrous.
Laughter lit up Kate’s face. ‘Of course not.”
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Laughter lit up Kate’s face. ‘Of course not.”
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“I know you want a love match,’ he said. ‘But, Kate, what do you think the chance is of that happening?’ He regretted the words as soon as they were uttered. Too blunt, too cruel.
He watched in shame as Kate flushed and her eyes dropped from his. ‘I know it’s never going to happen,’ she said, her voice low and stiff.”
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He watched in shame as Kate flushed and her eyes dropped from his. ‘I know it’s never going to happen,’ she said, her voice low and stiff.”
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