“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end.”
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“Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet.”
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“How frail the human heart must be―a mirrored pool of thought.”
― Letters Home
― Letters Home
Amanda’s 2025 Year in Books
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