"And as the bullet ripped through his flesh, Ralston was consumed by a single thought: I never told her that I loved her."

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I found that my wounds begin to heal when the voices of those endangered by silence are given power. The silence of hopelessness, of despair buried in the depths of poverty, violence, racism are more deadly than bullets. The gift of light, in our compassion, our listening, our works of love is the gift of life to ourselves.

— Janice Mirikitani