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‘But what if it was one of ours?’
Are we not our brothers’ keepers? Until we start caring about the plights of others like they’re our own flesh and blood, I don’t know if the worlds I’ll can be cured.
How still it was up here but why was it not ever peaceful?
So many things had a way of looking finer, when they were not so close.
Isn’t this the way life is- there are always more flaws (reality) as we get up close to people and situations.
once more the ordinary part of him simply wanted to be rid of this and get on home.
It’s easier to not confer on a difficult situation Than to be brave and do the right thing.
Furlong watched the girl being taken away and soon understood that this woman wanted him gone – but the urge to go was being replaced now by a type of contrariness to stay on, and to hold his ground.
They had expected him to go on, Furlong knew, but he paused, contrarily, and stood by the girl.
She looked at the window and took a breath and began to cry, the way those unused to any type of kindness do when it’s at first or after a long time again encountered.
Why were the things that were closest so often the hardest to see?
He thought of Mrs Wilson, of her daily kindnesses, of how she had corrected and encouraged him, of the small things she had said and done and had refused to do and say and what she must have known, the things which, when added up, amounted to a life.
