Donna Of Tartt. Goldfinch (№ 431194)

And how remarkable how limp his world was without him. It's strange, I thought, jumping away from the stream of water rushing along the curb, how everything can change in just a few hours - or, rather, how strange that such a bright fragment of the past can get stuck in the present, broken, broken, but never disappeared to end. Andy was kind to me when I had no one else. And I could at least repay his mother and sister with kindness. Now I understand this, but then it did not even occur to me that I had not crawled out of my cocoon of grief and self-digging for years, and behind this anomie of mine, behind stupor, apathy, isolation and heartache, I missed many everyday, small , imperceptible manifestations of kindness; and even this very word, kindness, reminded of a way out of a coma, from the hum of sensors - into a hospital reality of voices and people.