"Rain slips through your fingers as easily as words blow away in the wind, and yet it has the power to destroy your whole world."

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I will not go on, I thought. I won't. I will throw my soul to the wind and blow into a thousand pieces. I will wash up on a shore somewhere like bleached and broken driftwood. I will dry out in the sun until I-and any gift I ever had-shrivel into the sand.

— Janette Rallison