But when she tried to say something, the words always seemed trite and inadequate. Nothing measured up. When any moment might be their last, there was nothing she could ever imagine saying that had the necessary dignity to fill that instant. Silence was better. Silence had its own dignity.

The simple fact was that she no longer hated them as a matter of principle. It was also a source of shameful amazement that she could ever have wasted so much energy on groundless prejudice, when acceptance and tolerance would have been the easier, even the lazier, course.

But at least you cared. At least you were ready to do something." "This little mess," Auger said, "is all because of people who were ready to do something. People like me, who always know when they're right and everyone else is wrong. Maybe what we need is a few less of us.

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