And Olive thought about this: the way people can love those they barely know, and how abiding that love can be, and also how deep that love can be, even when – as in her own case – it was temporary. She thought of Betty and her stupid bumper sticker, and the child who had been so frightened that Halima Butterfly had told her about, and yet to tell any of this right now to Betty, who was genuinely suffering – as Olive had suffered – seemed cruel, and she kept silent.
-Elizabeth Strout
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