The Last Exchange

Scars are just the body’s response to things that shouldn’t be there. A reminder of the pain.

I don’t know if this will make sense to you

But if you press me, love is what makes us who we are. Hope is how we express us. Hope is love with legs.

you’re broken, life is about finding the beauty in the mess. And then holding on for dear life. And there’s no shame in that. Provided we’re

Milton said, ‘And though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously, by licensing and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?’” “Meaning?” “A lie can never stand toe-to-toe with truth.” “So?” “Defend truth. No matter the cost.

Every morning, I eat this dish called -hope-. Crumbs mostly, but without it, I'm not even human.' A long pause while her mind spun. 'But that's just it. There are no guarantees. Because if you can guarantee it, it's not hope.' [Joe] ... He [Pockets] adjusted his feet. 'I've been in some places where there is no hope, and yet somehow it swims through the cracks. Rises to the surface. I've found hope staring me in the face when reason screamed I had non. No matter what you do--ignore it, shove it in a closet, drown it with drink and pill, or stab it with science, experts, and talking heads--you can't kill hope. Not in all of human history has hope ever been laid to rest. When we breathe in, it's the stuff that expands our lungs. It's the reason we're not just dust.' She tried to laugh. 'I thought love did all that.' He sucked through his teeth. 'It's tough to tell those two apart, mum. But if you press me, love is what makes us who we are. Hope is how we express us. Hope is love with legs.

...a life laid down is better than the one picked up. --MacTHOMAS POCKETS

Scars are just the body's response to things that shouldn't be there. A reminder of the pain. --MacTHOMAS POCKETS

...that's the thing about mountaintops. While we might prefer those "high" moments, most of life'--she [Joe] pointed at a town in the valley--'happens down there. Along the way.' She tilted her head side to side. 'It's where the water is.

After several minutes, she [Joe] turned toward him [Pockets]. 'What changes it?' 'Not -what-.' A pause. '-Who-.' 'Who then?' 'The one who walks with you down into your closet. Down where you hide the bodies. Who isn't afraid of the stuff you're taking to the grave. The stuff you don't share with anyone.

He [MacThomas Pockets] leaned his head back. Chose his words. 'In my line of work, I've bet people. All kinds. All walks. Some up. Some down. One thing is true of all of us: nobody has their stuff together. Not presidents. Nor paupers. Not soldiers. Not actors.' He glanced at her [Maybe Joe Sue]. 'We are all a mess. And no amount of money, and no amount of drugs, changes that. When you're broken, life is about finding the beauty in the mess. And then holding on for dear life. And there's no shame in that. Provided we're honest about it.

The attacking general commented that while the four columns were strong (Spanish Civil War), and Madrid could repel them, it was the fifth column that he expected to win the battle. The fifth column was a group of sympathizers on the inside. Subversives. Attacking from the inside. Bent on undermining the solidarity of the nation at any cost.