I hadnt understood at the time. If sinners were so unhappywhy would they prefer their suffering But now I knew why.
Without my wounds who was I My scars were my face my past
was my life.
Janet Fitch
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Whenever she turned her steep focus to me I felt the warmth that flowers must feel when they bloom through the snow under the first concentrated rays of the sun.
- Janet Fitch -
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Do you ever want to go home I asked Paul.
He brushed an ash from my face. Its the century of the displaced person he said. You can never go home.
- Janet Fitch