Touching Spirit Bear

He turned to Edwin. "You know, the stuff you just told me makes more sense than all the weird things the counselors and psychologist have told me in school and at the detention center." Edwin tapped Cole's shoulder with the broken stick. "That's because those people still think you can get rid of the left end of the stick.

all my parents do is drink. They hate me. Do you know what it's like waking up every morning knowing you're not good enough? there are only two things wrong with me-everything I do and everything I say. They'll never be happy until I'm dead

Whatever you do to the animals, you do to yourself.

What you focus on becomes reality. Everybody carries anger inside. But also happiness. Those who focus on anger will always be angry. Those who focus on happiness will-

Why live if you can’t help others and make the world a better place?

Anger is a memory never forgotten. You only tame it.

People change two ways --- with slow persistent pressure, or with a single and sudden traumatic experience.

How much of the world did people miss because they were not calm enough, empty enough, to experience it?

Happiness, like anger, is also a habit. You learn to be happy one day at a time. But habits change hard.

catching up to Edwin until they reached the trees. Edwin turned to Cole. “Nobody’s going to baby-sit you here.

That’s how Cole felt—he didn’t owe anyone anything. Nobody had ever cared for him, so why should he care about anyone else?

All my life I’ve been dumped on.

Being invisible had nothing to do with being seen. Being invisible meant not being sensed or felt.

Do you know what it’s like waking up every morning knowing you’re not good enough? There are only two things wrong with me—everything I do and everything I say. They’ll never be happy until I’m dead.

Nobody cared about him. Nobody understood him. Nobody knew what it was like living with parents who wished he wasn’t alive.

As the skiff motored from the bay, the fading whine of the engine floated out across the choppy waters. In the distance, Garvey waved good-bye. Cole waved back, grinning. This far away, they couldn’t see the extended middle finger he brandished at them.

This banishment was the ultimate hurt—worse than his father’s fists and belt, worse than his mother’s never caring. This was the hurt of being alone and unwanted.