Pax Sara Pennypacker Quotes

Because I am exactly where I should be, doing exactly what I should be doing. That is peace.

The plain truth can be the hardest thing to see when it's about yourself. If you don't want to know the truth, you'll do anything to disguise it.

Sometimes the apple rolls very far from the tree.

no matter how bad things got, we could always make ourselves new again.

We all own a beast called anger. It can serve us: many good things come of anger at bad things; many unjust things are made just. But first we all have to figure out how to civilize it.

So which is it? You going back for your home or for your pet? They're the same thing, Peter said, the answer sudden and sure, although a surprise to him.

Oh, let me tell you, feelings are all dangerous. Love, hope... Ha! Hope! You talk about dangerous, eh? No, you can't avoid any of them. We all own a beast called anger. It can serve us: many good things come out of anger at bad things; many unjust things are made just. But first we all have to figure out how to civilize it.

You going back for your home or for your pet?” “They’re the same thing,

Do you think anyone in the history of this world ever set out to fight for the wrong side?

Oneness is always growing in the world, boy. Two but not two. It's always there, connecting its roots, humming. I can't be part of it--that's the price I pay for taking myself away. But you can be. You can vibrate with its heartbeat. You may be on your own. But you won't be alone.

Because I am exactly where I should be, doing exactly what I should be doing. That is peace. Eat.” Peter

but distrust is no match for kindness administered consistently and unmeasured, especially in creatures new to the world.

It's a Buddhist concept. Nonduality. It's about oneness, about how things that seem to be separate are really connected to one another. There are no separations...This is not just a piece of wood. This is also the clouds that brought the rain that watered the tree, and the birds that nested in it and the squirrels that fed on its nuts. It is also the food my grandparents fed me that made me strong enough to cut the tree, and it's the steel in the axe I used. And it's how you know your fox, which allowed you to carve him yesterday. And it's the story you will tell your children when you give this to them. All these things are separate but also one, inseparable. Do you see?

Peter shifted his backpack and crutches. He took a step toward the bus. Then he turned back. "I'm family?" "That's as true a thing as I've ever known. Now get on that bus.

This war that is coming—are you sure it will harm all in its path? Even the youth? Everything. It will destroy everything. Pax

If you don’t want to know the truth, you’ll do anything to disguise it.

It always seemed like a snake to him, his anxiety. Waiting just out of sight, ready to slither up his spine, hissing its familiar taunt: “You aren’t where you should be. Something bad is going to happen because you aren’t where you should be.

Vola: So which is it? You going back for your home or for your pet? Peter: They're the same thing.

We all own a beast called anger. It

It was a valuable thing, he suddenly realized, to have someone you could count on for honesty.

You may be on your own. But you won't be alone.

what if he was like his father, with that threatening kind of anger, the kind that was always simmering, the kind that could boil over at any time and hurt everyone in the way? The apologies afterward never healed the damage.

[A] baseball field was the only place where he felt he was exactly where he was born to be.

It is now. But a trip like this? You will find something to fill it with. A truth of your own, that you discover on your own.

Pax? That’s his name? It means ‘peace,’ you know.” Peter knew that—lots of people had told him. “But

Peanut butter happened?

It hung between grief and yearning, and it welled from a deep ache for something that Pax could never divine.

The new joy of speed, the urgency of coming night, the hope of reunion with his boy – these things transformed him into something that shot like liquid fire between the trees. Something gravity couldn't touched. Pax could have run forever.

Oh, let me tell you, feelings are all dangerous. Love, hope...Ha! Hope! You talk about dangerous, eh? No, you can't avoid them. We all own a beast called anger. It can serve us: many good things come of anger at bad things; many unjust things are made just. But first we all have to figure out how to civilize it" -Vola

He could offer only withness, but nothing else was asked.

I have twenty acres of trees to care for. And I’m a wood-carver. You thought they were weapons?” Peter

She said it meant that no matter how bad things got, we could always make ourselves new again.

Standing fur-to-fur, five foxes wailed, and the call sang of the absence that was theirs alone and of all the losses in the world. And it sang of the joy that remained.

And why didn't anyone count those things? "People should tell the truth about what war costs," Vola had said. Weren't those things the costs of war, too?

The chemicals may have reached the aquifer. You come upon a pond, crystal clear, that’s actually a warning sign.” “I know. It’s clear because nothing can live in it.

were

grassy

Ti Poul.

Vola eyed him as she sawed a slice off a ham joint

You’re going to work some puppets for me. Marionettes. That sound too hard?” “Marionettes?

Because I am exactly where I should be, doing exactly what I should be doing. That is peace." Pax, Pennypacker.

Because I am exactly where I should be, doing exactly what I should be doing. That is peace. Eat.

Pax knew that his daughter was stubborn, like her mother, so he waited while she took this in. At last he saw her relax her guard. He nosed the scent on the lichen. Not this one. My boy. Her sharp ears cocked in question. Pax lay down. Come here. After a moment, the kit crept to him cautiously and settled down against the white fur of his chest. Pax dropped his paw over her shoulder. When I was a new kit, newer than you, I was very ill. It was a time before remembering. It was knowing. A human boy took me out of my den. The kit’s eyes widened. Mother-father allowed? Mother-father were gone. This boy brought me to his den. He fed me and warmed me close to his skin. This boy was mother-father? Pax considered this. Yes, he agreed. Mother-father. Later, Friend. This human used only a soft voice with me. His hands held me safe, but never

It was a valuable thing, he suddenly realized, to have someone you could count on for honesty. How many times in his life had he wanted only that? How many questions had he needed an honest answer for and gotten instead, from his father, dark silence?

In the dugout, the familiar mingled scents of leather, sweat, and stale bubble gum wrapped around him like a hug.

distrust is no match for kindness administered consistently and unmeasured, especially in creatures new to the world.

There is a disease that strikes foxes sometimes. It causes them to abandon their ways, to attack strangers. War is a human sickness like

leaking in through the window, which told him they were now traveling into woodlands. The sharp odors of pine—wood, bark, cones, and needles—slivered through the air like blades, but beneath that, the fox recognized softer clover and wild garlic and ferns, and also a hundred things he had never encountered before but that smelled green and urgent. The boy sensed something now, too. He pulled his pet back to him and gripped his baseball glove more tightly. The boy’s anxiety surprised the fox. The few times they had traveled in the car before, the boy had been calm or even excited. The fox nudged his muzzle into the glove’s webbing, although he hated the leather smell.

Last night, I saw the moon, and I knew Pax was seeing it right then, too. Do you think that if I feel Pax living, then he’s alive?

You must always look up. Danger from above can be silent.

silent.

who seemed to think of words as coins and was careful about spending any.

No. Because I am exactly where I should be, doing exactly what I should be doing. That is peace. Eat.

It

And with that memory, the anxiety snake struck so hard that it stunned Peter’s breath out of him.

Because what if he was like his father, with that threatening kind of anger, the kind that was always simmering, the kind that could boil over at any time and hurt everyone in the way? The apologies afterward never healed the damage. He

Gray had not gotten better.