392 books
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Urban

“
Winter was gray and mean upon the city and every night was a package of cold bleak hours, like the hours in a cell that had no door.
”
― Of Tender Sin
― Of Tender Sin

“
You could never kill a wyte, child. Instead of thinking of death, you need to think in terms of aging. The old cannot help but become less ambitious and more accepting as each moment ticks on by.
”
― Ghost Doors
― Ghost Doors

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