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“Sometimes, Linn thought, bravery was not loud, or grand, or brilliant as the blaze of a thousand fires. Sometimes it was quite. Unremarkable. Unknown. The resilient wend of water through rocks, year after year after year.” — Amélie Wen Zhao
Sometimes, Linn thought, bravery was not loud, or grand, or brilliant as the blaze of a thousand fires.
Sometimes it was quite. Unremarkable. Unknown. The resilient wend of water through rocks, year after year after year.