and the past held only this wisdom: that love was a damaing mistake, and it’s accomplice, hope, a treacherous illusion. — Khaled Hosseini, A Thousand Splendid Suns
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Cecelia Ahern, A Place Called Here
the heart is a lonely hunter with only one desire
to find some lasting comfort in the arms of another’s fire
driven by a desperate hunger to the arms of a neon light
the heart is a lonely hunter when there’s no sign of love in sight
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