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Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder.
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storm
summer
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Benjamin Alire Sáenz |
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They sicken of the calm who know the storm.
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women
excitement
storm
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Dorothy Parker |
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When you come out of the storm, you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about.
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life
turbulence
storm
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Haruki Murakami |
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There's always another storm. It's the way the world works. Snowstorms, rainstorms, windstorms, sandstorms, and firestorms. Some are fierce and others are small. You have to deal with each one separately, but you need to keep an eye on whats brewing for tomorrow.
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storm
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Maria V. Snyder |
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I think that the world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just cats and rain, rain and cats, very nice, good night.
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rain
storm
night
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Charles Bukowski |
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"Yippee. I've been promoted from fire lighter to delivery boy. I'll write a letter home to Mother. She'll be so pleased." --Leif"
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storm
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Maria V. Snyder |
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Sometimes fate is like a small sandstorm that keeps changing directions. You change direction but the sandstorm chases you. You turn again, but the storm adjusts. Over and over you play this out, like some ominous dance with death just before dawn. Why? Because this storm isn't something that has nothing to do with you, This storm is you. Something inside you. So all you can do is give in to it, step right inside the storm, closing your eyes and plugging up your ears so the sand doesn't get in, and walk through it, step by step. There's no sun there, no moon, no direction, no sense of time. Just fine white sand swirling up the sky like pulverized bones.
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storm
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Haruki Murakami |
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By early evening all the sky to the north had darkened and the spare terrain they trod had turned a neuter gray as far as the eye could see. They grouped in the road at the top of a rise and looked back. The storm front towered above them and the wind was cool on their sweating faces. They slumped bleary-eyed in their saddles and looked at one another. Shrouded in the black thunderheads the distant lightning glowed mutely like welding seen through foundry smoke. As if repairs were under way at some flawed place n the iron dark of the world.
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west
storm
weather
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Cormac McCarthy |
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I thought I loved him when he went away; I love him now in another degree: he is more my own. [ . . . ] Oh! a thousand weepers, praying in agony on waiting shores, listened for that voice, but it was not uttered--not uttered till; when the hush came, some could not feel it: till, when the sun returned, his light was night to some!
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love
emmanuel
villette
lost-at-sea
missing
storm
waiting
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Charlotte Brontë |
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The girl was alluring. Like wildfire, or a summer storm swept off the Gulf of Oro.
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celaena
wildfire
storm
summer
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Sarah J. Maas |
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In March the soft rains continued, and each storm waited courteously until its predecessor sunk beneath the ground.
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rain
storm
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John Steinbeck |
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I see us giving love to each other in a time of quiet between storms. It's what we were meant to do.
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love
sihaya
dune
storm
paul
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Frank Herbert |
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Sometimes the storm winds blow so strong a man has no choice but to furl his sails.
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winds
sail
ship
storm
sea
strong
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George R.R. Martin |
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Then the storm broke, and the dragons danced.
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war
targaryens
fire-and-blood
storm
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George R.R. Martin |
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He thought perhaps it was a woman's way, to come out of such a storm of emotion and pain as if she were a ship emerging onto calm seas. She had seemed, not at peace, but emptied of sorrow. As if she had run out of that particular emotion and no other one arose to take its place.
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tragedy
pain
woman
depression
emotion
sorrow
sadness
ship
devastation
numb
empty
way
storm
peace
cold
disappointment
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Robin Hobb |
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"I never win anything," Dolorous Edd complained. "The gods always smiled on Watt, though. When the wildlings knocked him off the Bridge of Skulls, somehow he landed in a nice depp proof of water. How lucky was that, missing all those rocks?"
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of
thrones
storm
swords
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George R. R. Martin |
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Besides, the storm which rages in her breast was increasing in its violence, and she would have burst her prison walls if her body could have enjoyed, for a single instant, the same proportions as her soul.
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storm
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Alexandre Dumas |
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And then I realize: this isn't dirty water falling from the sky. It is--literally--blood. I look up, and a droplet of blood splashes directly into my eye. I curse, rubbing my face, trying to get the blood out, but it's everywhere, it's like trying to dry off in the middle of the ocean. Shielding my face as best I can, I stare up into the sky. I am in the center of a cyclone. Giant white clouds swirl like a spiraling galaxy above me, the eye a tiny dark speck. The storm rages, throwing out bloody rain like punches, the wind so vicious it tears my clothes and cuts my skin. Representative Belles's mind is swirling with dark thoughts--bloody thoughts--and they have created the biggest storm I have ever seen. I have to stop the cyclone. I have to get him into a peaceful reverie, something that he can hold on to while I root around his brain, looking for answers. I focus all of my concentration on stopping the bloody rain. The drops come slower and slower. I take a deep breath, imagining the clouds breaking up, spinning into fluffy bits of cotton-candy like clouds. I don't open my eyes until the sounds of beating rain disappear and I can feel the warmth of the Mediterranean sun on my face.
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rain
cyclone
mediterranean
reverie
clouds
stop
sky
sun
storm
nightmare
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Beth Revis |
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Mandy loved the smell of a sunny day after a night of rain. The sun hit the orange puddles, the overgrown, soft, green grass on her lawn, and it beamed down through the orange steel mill smog, sending otherworldly, bizarre shadows across the concrete sidewalk.
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dream
science
smog
nuclear
rainbow
pollution
surreal
girl
storm
teenager
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Rebecca McNutt |
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... but we cannot go back to happier times. We can only live in the present, and right now that present is painful.
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velen
golden
christie
storm
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Christie Golden |
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I never see a ship sailing out of the channel, or a gull soaring over the sand-bar, without wishing I were on board the ship or had wings, not like a dove 'to fly away and be at rest,' but like a gull, to sweep out into the very heart of the storm.
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gull
ship
wish
storm
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L.M. Montgomery |
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"With Pollution, emotion is irrelevant, it is not their nature," Mearth sighed, making a face as if she were talking to an ignorant small child. "I didn't create them, humans created the Pollution. Cheryl Nobel, Alecto Steele, Albert Sanders, Olivia Campbell, all my pretty little Representations, there aren't many of them left these days but they're still very dangerous! They're here to tell society all about its mistakes! You don't understand the world of Representations."
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suicide
earth
grief
loss
nature
fear
death
imagination
chernobyl
entity
hazardous
love-canal
tar
tar-sands
toxic-waste
sydney-tar-ponds
cape-breton
nova-scotia
recycle
hippie
disturbing
smog
mother-earth
imaginary
chemicals
representation
coal
green
steel
environment
canada
pollution
storm
dying
scared
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Rebecca McNutt |
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Life isn't about waiting on the storm to pass. It's about learning to dance in the rain.
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storm
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Claudia Carroll |
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Lightning flickered above the city, a crescent moon sneered through a gap in the clouds. The boutique huddled against the storm, a tiny island of light on an unlit street.
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storm
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Mohsin Hamid |
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Generally the thunder-storms came in the afternoon, but once I saw one at sunrise, driving down the high mountain valleys toward us. It was a very beautiful and almost terrible sight; for the sun rose behind the storm, and shone through the gusty rifts, lighting the mountain-crests here and there, while the plain below lay shrouded in the lingering night. The angry, level rays edged the dark clouds with crimson, and turned the downpour into sheets of golden rain; in the valleys the glimmering mists were tinted every wild hue; and the remotest heavens were lit with flaming glory.
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nature
thunderstorm
storm
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Theodore Roosevelt |
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"He continued to move forward, skirting a pocket of radiation that had not died in the four years since last he had come this way. They came upon a place where the sands were fused into a glassy sea, and he slowed as he began its passage, peering ahead after the craters and chasms it contained. Three more rockfalls assailed him before the heavens split themselves open and revealed a bright-blue light, edged with violet. The dark curtains rolled back toward the Poles, and the roaring and the gunfire reports diminished. A lavender glow remained in the north, and a green sun dipped toward the horizon at his back. They had ridden it out, and he killed the infras, pushed back his goggles, and switched on the normal night lamps. The desert would be bad enough, all by itself.
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machine-gun
post-apocalypse
car
storm
monster
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Roger Zelazny |
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Rain filled the gutters and splashed knee-high off the sidewalk. Big cops in slickers that shone like gun barrels had a lot of fun carrying giggling girls across the bad places. The rain drummed hard on the roof of the car and the burbank top began to leak. A pool of water formed on the floorboards for me to keep my feet in. It was too early in the fall for that kind of rain.
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rain
storm
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Raymond Chandler |