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Pierre Janet, a French professor of psychology who became prominent in the early twentieth century, attempted to fully chronicle late- Victorian hysteria in his landmark work The Major Symptoms of Hysteria. His catalogue of symptoms was staggering, and included somnambulism (not sleepwalking as we think of it today, but a sort of amnesiac condition in which the patient functioned in a trance state, or "second state," and later remembered nothing); trances or fits of sleep that could last for days, and in which the patient sometimes appeared to be dead; contractures or other disturbances in the motor functions of the limbs; paralysis of various parts of the body; unexplained loss of the use of a sense such as sight or hearing; loss of speech; and disruptions in eating that could entail eventual refusal of food altogether. Janet's profile was sufficiently descriptive of Mollie Fancher that he mentioned her by name as someone who "seems to have had all possible hysterical accidents and attacks." In the face of such strange and often intractable "attacks," many doctors who treated cases of hysteria in the 1800s developed an ill-concealed exasperation.

Michelle Stacey
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Though it pained me, I gave in. Why was it that I repeatedly succumbed to the first whisper of a promised maybe? How did the enticer, hope, always find my heart unguarded? There was no such thing as hope. Not for me. Why was it so hard to accept that?

Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
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Real? Real depends upon your perspective, Annabelle. People never see life exactly the same way. The world is what you think it is.

Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
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Dare to imagine. Dare to be. Books are the seeds. Dreams are the soil. The fruit of the harvest, a world reborn.

Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
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I couldn’t think of anyone I’d ever felt sorry for. There were plenty of kids I was envious of. There were others I achingly admired, but that might simply be another form of jealousy. Then there were those I feared, dreaded. And the worst of them, the man who shamed me. I could see my father’s angry features looming over my mother. I could clearly picture her beside him in his truck, cowering against the door while he belittled and assaulted her. I guess I did know someone I felt sorry for.

Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
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Time passes…..and a billion lives are affected in ways we’ll never know.

Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
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I made a sorry face in response to such strong insistence, but I couldn’t believe him. Fantasies were exactly that..…..fantasies. Whimsy. Wishes. Mere castles in the sky without foundation or substance. Dreams didn’t come true. To believe so would be to believe falsely, to surrender to madness, to give in to an unreliable hope that would crush me once again as it always, always did!

Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
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In a world plagued with commonplace tragedies, only one thing exists that truly has the power to save lives, and that is love.

Richelle E. Goodrich, Dandelions: The Disappearance of Annabelle Fancher
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