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Thursday, February 28, 2013

— Warm Bodies, Isaac Marion

“Every time I go to sleep, I know I may never wake up. How could anyone expect to? You drop your tiny, helpless mind into a bottomless well, crossing your fingers and hoping that when you pull it out on its flimsy fishing wire it hasn’t been gnawed to bones by nameless beasts below. Hoping you pull up anything at all. Maybe this why I sleep only a few hours a month. I don’t want to die again.”

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