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“It's not fair, the way some people can be. But as long as you remember to be just and kind like I know you are, what those people think won't matter in the long run. Hate is loud, but I think you'll learn it's because it's only a few people shouting, desperate to be heard. You might not ever be able to change their minds, but so long as you remember you're not alone, you will overcome.”

“Se qualcuno avesse chiesto a Linus Baker se si sentiva solo, lui avrebbe risposto con una smorfia sorpresa. Il pensiero gli era del tutto estraneo, quasi scioccante. E sebbene anche la più piccola delle bugie gli facesse venire l'emicrania e il mal di stomaco, c'era comunque la possibilità che alla domanda avrebbe risposto di no. Ovviamente lo era. Era disperatamente solo. Forse una parte di lui sarebbe persino stata convinta di dire la verità. Ormai da tempo aveva accettato che certe persone, a prescindere da quanto fosse buono il loro cuore o di quanto amore avessero da offrire, erano destinate a rimanere sole. La vita aveva quello in serbo per loro. All'età di ventisette anni, Linus aveva capito di appartenere a quella categoria di persone. Oh, non che si fosse verificato chissà quale traumatico evento. Semplicemente si sentiva... meno luminoso degli altri. Come una lampadina a risparmio energetico in un mondo a mille watt. Nessuno l'avrebbe mai notato.”

“Can’t sleep?” SIRS had asked. “No,” Cavalo said roughly. “Ah. I often wonder what it’s like.” “What,” Cavalo asked, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Sleeping,” SIRS had said. “Being able to dream. I’m told it’s a wondrous thing.” “Except when they’re nightmares. Not so wondrous when death is all you see.” SIRS’s eyes had flashed. “I would think that would be even better,” he’d said. “Because you wake up, your heart pounding in your chest, and there would be a moment of terror before clarity sets in. The relief one must feel at realizing it was just a dream seems like it would be the greatest sensation in the world. How I wish I could wake from a nightmare.”

“It's not fair," Linus said, staring off into nothing. "The way some people can be. But as long as you remember to be just and kind like I know you are, what those people think won't matter in the long run. Hate is loud, but I think you'll learn it's because it's only a few people shouting, desperate to be heard. You might not ever be able to change their minds, but so long as you remember you're not alone, you will overcome.”

“It’s not like we can keep this a secret forever, right? One day Alice and Jerry are going to start to notice that Otter and I live together and spend every waking moment together, and even if they don’t notice that, there’s no way they’re not going to be able see what happens when I look at him. Jesus, it’s a dead fucking giveaway because I get that stupid, goofy grin on my face and… and…. What the hell are you all staring at?” “Who are you and what have you done with Bear?” Creed asks, eyes wide. “Aw,” Anna says sweetly. “You love him.”

“So while I drove my little and planned his fantasy night of how I was going to give Otter the key to my soul (his words, not mine), I silently panicked and wrote lines of bad poetry. Normally, I am quite adept at writing poems and lyrics to songs I'l never sing, but this stuff was just atrocious. For example: I love you You love me Thank God for that I'm so happy And Ty's personal favorite (which he helped me on): Otter! Otter! Otter! Don't lead cows to slaughter I love you and I know I should've told you soon-a But you didn't buy the dolphin-safe tuna! TY asked me if I got the hidden message in his poem. I told him it was loud and clear.”