Dank Quotes

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the dank night is sweeping down from the skyand the setting stars incline our heads to sleep.

Virgil
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If he did not speak his tale, it grew dank and musty, it shrank inside him, while with the telling the tale stayed fresh and virtuous.

Orson Scott Card, Seventh Son
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It has been my experience that guilt can burst through the smallest breach and cover the landscape, and abide in it in pools and danknesses, just as native as water.

Marilynne Robinson, Gilead
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I've always been told my presence brightened up any room. One might think that went doubly for dank underground cell." (Jace)

Cassandra Clare, City of Glass
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This is not the story of my marriage. I cannot tell that story: I cannot take hold of, or lay out for anyone, the many swamps and grasses and pockets of fresh air and dank air that have gone over us.

Elizabeth Strout, My Name Is Lucy Barton
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I fall for centuries of life. First sunlight touches this hillside; and buried inside the earth, a seed stirs, turning slowly in the deep soil like a tadpole turning itself in a dank pool.

Ned Hayes, The Eagle Tree
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He shot across the dark and dank room and gently lowered her slight body, which seemed to weigh almost nothing, until she stood with her back to the wall, as he called a shield of water to block her from any danger.

Alyssa Day, Atlantis Unleashed
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Because forgiveness is like this: a room can be dank because you have closed the windows, you've closed the curtains. But the sun is shining outside, and the air is fresh outside. In order to get that fresh air, you have to get up and open the window and draw the curtains apart.

Desmond Tutu
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I wanted the rattle of New York around me, I wanted stink and strangers and the sour dank air of the IRT clutching me to its bosom. I wanted hustle and bustle. I wanted to know that millions of lives were playing out at my doorstep, and not one of them gave a damn about my little problems.

Beatriz Williams, The Secret Life of Violet Grant
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He thought there must be a place, like a dead-letter office, where everyone's longing went, yearning that was sent out, day after day. He thought it must collect somewhere, in a dank basement room, the mass of it rising and rising like water, and with no end in sight.

Jane Hamilton, The Short History of a Prince
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