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Quote by Molly Collier

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The Paragon

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Molly Collier

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“People liked to believe that tragedies are interchangeable, that they bought you entrance into some kind of brotherhood of grief, where empathy among members was exalted, telepathic, but this is was probably because they needed to believe that tragedy taught you something, that is wasn't a total waste, that the prize you received in lieu of your loss was a new level of understanding. Max didn't view his bereavement as particularly educational, however. All he new now that he hadn't known before was what he should have known in the first place: no one was safe.”

“Sometimes, you ought to thank God for closing some doors, for He wants you to be whole. There is no point in being in places that tarnish your image, disturb your peace, drain your spirit, steal your joy, hinder your growth or wear out your soul.”

“Mammie was out there in the dark and cold. No one would ever bring her in, to warm and dry and cherish her. There was rain seeping through the earth and into her coffin. Water gets everywhere. It finds a way, no matter how tight the carpenter dovetails his joints. When rain spattered on the windows I could never run to open the door for her, to take off her cloak to dry it by the fire, kneel to take off her boots. She was part of the cold darkness. She would never come in. And here I was, still putting food into my mouth and swallowing it. I lay bound, as heavy as if I too had the weight of six feet of earth above me.”

“Any homicide detective who has ever tried to cope with the anguish of parents who realize intuitively that their children are dead, but have not even the faint comfort of knowing where their bodies are, can attest to the fact that this is the worst. One weary investigator commented to me, "It's rough. It's damn rough, when you have to tell them that you've found a body, that it's their kid. But it's never over for the parents who just don't know. They can't really have a funeral, they can't know that their children aren't being held and tortured someplace, they can't face their grief and get it over. Hell, you never get over it, but, if you know, you can pick your life up again, somehow.”

“When I began writing fact-detective stories, I promised myself that I would always remember I was writing about the loss of human beings, that I was to never forget that. I hoped that the work I did might somehow save other victims, might warn them of the danger. I never wanted to become tough, to seek out the sensational and the gory, and I never have. I have joined the Committee of Friends and Families of Missing Persons and Victims of Violent Crimes, at the invitation of the group. I have met many parents of victims, cried with them, and yet I have somehow felt guilty - because I make my living from other people's tragedies. When I told the Committee how I felt, they put their arms around me and said, "No. Keep on writing. Let the public know how it is for us. Let them know how we hurt, and how we try to save other parents' children by working for new legislation that requires mandatory sentencing and the death penalty for killers." They are far stronger than I could ever be.”