I think maybe bad things seem worse when people are alone. When they can turn that bad thought over and over in their head, polishing it like a stone, until it shines dark and black. Maybe the key to making things better is being with other people. Little by little, smiles and laughter and hugs can chip away at any dark stone, even if it’s as big as a boulder to start. Then finally, bit by bit, it shrinks until it’s no bigger than a pebble, something that even I could kick down the road.
Shannon Wiersbitzky, What Flowers Remember
alone, bad-things, pebble, pebbles, stones