"Juliet, you shall go to the banquet," she said aloud, "and so shall I."
"But I think Mrs. Whitlow won't like that," said Juliet.
Something was still bubbling inside Glenda. It had started in Shatta and lasted all day yesterday and there was still some left today. "I don't care," she said.
Juliet giggled and looked around in case Mrs. Whitlow was hiding near the bus stop.
And I really don't care, Glenda thought. I don't care. It was like drawing a sword.
Terry Pratchett, Unseen Academicals
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YOU MUST TRY TO LOVE YOURSELF WHEN NOTHING ELSE DOES. THIS WILL BE THE HARDEST PART
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always your sword, my umbral sovereign
(finished rereading htn and i am not afraid to admit that it made me bawl like a baby… again)
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