“There it was again, the prickling sense of standing on a precipice.”

“I'm sorry," he said again, and this time he took those words and owned them.”

“Even so, I was proud of myself for taking action at all. I didn't hide or run away or pretend the ugliness didn't happen. I stood up and said something that was true. I said it out loud, and by doing so, I was standing up for lots of people, not just me.”

“So as a seventh grader, no, you weren't friends with people you didn't like. But sometimes you also weren't friends with people you did like, which was complicated, and which didn't make any sense if you tried to explain it. Sometimes things just changed. That's where the sadness came in.”

“I scowled. I could resist it all I wanted, but I did understand what he was trying to explain. How sometimes he pieces of who you thought you were didn't add up to who you really were, like with me not standing up for Patrick when he wore those pants.”

“If you sense that someone feels disconnected, reach out to them," the speaker urges. "buy them a soda. Compliment their new hairdo. It'll make them feel better, and you'll feel better knowing you've been a channel of grace."Jolene leans over and whispers, "My pen is feeling disconnected. Will you be a channel of grave and get it for me?" **********Chelsea, quit picking at your scab," a girl in front of me says to her friend as we file out. "It's gross." Then she gasps in mock horror. "Or maybe it's a cry for help! Be strong, Chelsea! Stay with the living!”

“Knowledge was more powerful than fear. Love was stronger than hate.”