More on this book
Kindle Notes & Highlights
half of history was tied up in stuff that got erased from our books as if it never happened at all.
Wright, Algonquin, and Iroquois (A found poem from the AllTrails reviews) Slick flat slab. Why so steep? Roots to grab. Mud, knee-deep. Bug bites, blood. Narrow path. Grueling mud. (Need a bath.) Climbing up. Wrong turn. Tired pup. Sunburn. Path too narrow. Scratched-up knees. Wrong-way arrow through the trees. So confused. Blazing sun. Gorgeous views. Finally done.
but if they had a medal for politely listening to somebody blabbing about beech leaves and birch bark and blackbirds and beavers and blah-blah-blah butterfly,
Heroes with capital H’s die in Tragedies with capital T’s.
scrambling, slogging through bogs, Sam and I summit the mountain called Seymour
There’s no good path— just a bad way and a worse way— so you might as well choose one and get started.
Can You Be Addicted to Being a Hero? You can only test a person’s blood for chemicals and stuff— not for what they’re thinking.

