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But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drink, the very air I breathe, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o'clock in the morning.

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I don't subscribe to the school of thought that as a feature film producer I shouldn't dabble in television, web content, or even comic books...
My country is in ruins. So I'm a fish in a poisoned fishbowl. I'm mostly just heartsick about this. There should have been hope. This should have been a great country. But we are despised all over the world now. I was hoping to build a country and add to its literature. That's why I served in World War II, and that's why I wrote books.
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Sadness flies on the wings of the morning, and out of the heart of darkness comes the light. ― Jean Giraudoux
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You are the morning smiles and the midnight whispers; how can I forget you without forgetting them. ― M.F. Moonzajer
They talked on into the early morning, the high, pale cast of light in the windows, and they did not think of leaving. ― Raymond Carver
A lot of things have been thrown at me in life, and I've got through it all without a rule book, taking it one day at a time. — Yoko Ono