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"Grief is a most peculiar thing; we're so helpless in the face of it. It's like a window that will simply open of its own accord. The room grows cold, and we can do nothing but shiver. But it opens a little less each time, and a little less; and one day we wonder what has become of it." — Arthur Golden, Memoirs of a Geisha

As quoted by Linda from Newaygo, Michigan
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LONG FORM
ONE WORD