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Speaks the Nightbird
Book:
Speaks the Nightbird
Quotes of Book: Speaks the Nightbird
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Robert R. McCammon
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Speaks the Nightbird
The evening crept up, as evenings will. In the fading purple twilight, with the last bold artist's stroke of red sun painting the bellies of clouds across the western horizon, Matthew took a lantern and went walking.
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Robert R. McCammon
_
Speaks the Nightbird
Matthew fell on his belly, the pain in his ribs making him curl up like a stomped worm.
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Robert R. McCammon
_
Speaks the Nightbird
It had been a joyful day for frogs and mud hens. For the human breed, however, the low gray clouds and chill rain coiled chains around the soul.
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Robert R. McCammon
_
Speaks the Nightbird
He felt, though, that if love was the desire to possess someone, it was in reality the poor substance of self-love. It seemed to him that a greater, truer love was the desire to open a cage - be it made of iron bars or the bones of tormented injustice - and set the nightbird free.
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