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People appear to be WAY more affected by the deaths of their animals than the deaths of their humans.

My brain unpacks the enormity of my days when I’m doing something monotonous like running errands.

Things that gross me out: Loogies. Condiment nozzle crust. Donating plasma.

Most of my first impressions come from behind the zip of a body bag.

Personal effects of the dead have a special way of breaking your heart.

I think about this heart-breaker of a line from The Book Thief every time someone dies.