“Oh, I can never get enough," he said. "Which, incidentally, is what your sister said to me when - "The carriage door flew open. A hand shot out, grabbed Will by the back of the shirt, and hauled him inside. The door banged shut after him, and Thomas, sitting bolt upright, seized reins of the horses. A moment later the carriage had lurched forth into the night, leaving Gabriel staring, infuriated, after it.”

Cassandra Clare

Cassandra Clare - “Oh, I can never get enough," he said...” 1

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“Will tossed the bloody cloth aside. “And you wonder why we aren’t friends.” “I just wondered,” Gabriel said, in more subdued voice, “if perhaps you have ever had enough.” “Enough of what?” “Enough of behaving as you do.” Will crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes glistening dangerously. “Oh, I can never get enough,” he said. “Which, incidentally, is what your sister said to me when─” The carriage door flew open. A hand shot out, grabbed Will by the back of his shirt, and hauled him inside.”

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“Oh, I can never get enough. Which, incidentally, is what your sister said when--”

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“Enough of what?Enough of behaving as you do.Oh, I can never get enough. Which, incidentally, is what you sister said to me when”

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“You know these things as thoughts, but your thoughts are not your experiences, they are an echo and after-effect of your experiences: as when your room trembles when a carriage goes past. I however am sitting in the carriage, and often I am the carriage itself.Ina man who thinks like this, the dichotomy between thinking and feeling, intellect and passion, has really disappeared. He feels his thoughts. He can fall in love with an idea. An idea can make him ill.”

Friedrich Nietzsche
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“My son, Sam, at three and a half, had these keys to a set of plastic handcuffs, and one morning he intentionally locked himself out of the house. I was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper when I heard him stick his plastic keys into the doorknob and try to open the door. Then I heard him say, "Oh, shit." My whole face widened, like the guy in Edvard Munch's Scream. After a moment I got up and opened the front door."Honey," I said, "what'd you just say?""I said, 'Oh, shit,'" he said."But, honey, that's a naughty word. Both of us have absolutely got to stop using it. Okay?"He hung his head for a moment, nodded, and said, "Okay, Mom." Then he leaned forward and said confidentially, "But I'll tell you why I said 'shit.'" I said Okay, and he said, "Because of the fucking keys!”

Anne Lamott
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