He understood that in walking to atone for the mistakes he had made, it was his journey to accept the strangeness of others. As a passerby, he was in a place where everything, not only the land, was open. People would feel free to talk, and he was free to listen. To carry a little of them as he went.
Rachel JoyceHe must have driven this way countless times, and yet he had no memory of the scenery. He must have been so caught up in the day's agenda, and arriving punctually at their destination, that the land beyond the car had been no more than a wash of one green, and a backdrop of one hill. Life was very different when you walked through it.
Rachel JoyceHe had felt safe with what he had confided. It had been the same with Queenie. You could say things in the car and know she had tucked them somewhere safe among her thoughts, and that she would not judge him for them, or hold it against him in years to come. He supposed that was what friendship was, and regretted all the years he had spent without it.
Rachel JoyceThere is so much to the human mind we don't understand. But, you see, if you have faith, you can do anything.
Rachel JoyceThe least planned part of the journey, however, was the journey itself.
Rachel JoyceBut it never ceases to amaze me how difficult the things that are supposed to be instinctive really are.
Rachel JoyceIt was not a life, if lived without love.
Rachel JoyceBeginnings could happen more than once, or in different ways.
Rachel Joyceyou could be ordinary and attempt something extraordinary, without being able to explain it in a logical way.
Rachel JoyceIf I just keep putting one foot in front of the other, it stands to reason that I'm going to get there. I've begun to think we sit far more than we're supposed to." He smiled. "Why else would we have feet?
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