All the Colors of the Dark

At ten years old he realized that people were born whole, and that the bad things peeled layers from the person you once were, thinning compassion and empathy and the ability to construct a future. At thirteen he knew those layers could sometimes be rebuilt when people loved you. When you loved.

“People have short memories when you do something good, and long when you fuck things up,” Sammy said. “So—” “So you either keep doing good…” “Or stop giving a fuck what people think.”

“Nothing on this earth more beautiful than sacrifice, kid. You’ll do well not to learn that yourself.”

“I know you’ve been told this before and will likely hear it again. You get a single shot…doesn’t seem fair, but aim right and it’s enough. I won’t ever forget you coming to see me, just to hear someone speak her name awhile has been everything. If you learn from the times you go wrong, you can revel in the times you don’t.”

Chief Nix once told her that to love and be loved was more than could ever be expected, more than enough for a thousand ordinary lifetimes.