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Then I choose to drown. In hope. Rather than float into nothing.
— Melina Marchetta
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The little island seemed to float on the dark lake-waters. Trees grew on it, and a little hill rose in the middle of it. It was a mysterious island, lonely and beautiful. All the children stood and gazed at it, loving it and longing to go to it. It looked so secret - almost magic.
— Enid Blyton
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