Campbell Alexander Quotes in My Sister’s Keeper
I tap my pen on the desk, and Judge—my dog—sidles closer. “What happens if you don’t give your sister a kidney?”
“She’ll die.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Anna’s mouth is set in a thin line. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are. I’m just trying to figure out what made you want to put your foot down, after all this time.”
She looks over at the bookshelf. “Because,” she says simply, “it never stops.”
“Anna,” I say, at the exact same moment as Sara Fitzgerald.
It is my responsibility to explain to Anna that Judge DeSalvo wants a few minutes in private. I need to coach her, so that she says the right things, so that the judge doesn’t throw the case out before she gets what she wants. She is my client; by definition, she is supposed to follow my counsel.
But when I call her name, she turns toward her mother.
“Do you have kids?” Anna asks.
I laugh. “What do you think?”
“It’s probably a good thing,” she admits. “No offense, but you don’t exactly look like a parent.”
This fascinates me. “What do parents look like?”
She seems to think about this. “You know about how the tightrope guy at the circus wants everyone to believe his act is an art, but deep down you can see that he’s really just hoping he makes it all the way across? Like that.”
You might remember the recent case of the firefighters in Worcester, Massachusetts, who were killed in a blaze started by a homeless woman. She knew the fire had started and she left the building, but she never called 911 because she thought she might get into trouble. Six men died that night, and yet the State couldn’t hold this woman responsible, because in America—even if the consequences are tragic—you are not responsible for someone else’s safety. You aren’t obligated to help anyone in distress. Not if you’re the one who started the fire, not if you’re a passerby to a car wreck, not if you’re a perfectly matched donor.
Can you tell me what the right answer is here? […] Because I don’t know where to look for it. I know what’s right. I know what’s fair. But neither of those apply here. I can sit, and I can think about it, and I can tell you what should be and what ought to be. I can even tell you there’s got to be a better solution. But it’s been thirteen years, Mr. Alexander, and I still haven’t found it.
Campbell Alexander Quotes in My Sister’s Keeper
I tap my pen on the desk, and Judge—my dog—sidles closer. “What happens if you don’t give your sister a kidney?”
“She’ll die.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Anna’s mouth is set in a thin line. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“Yes, you are. I’m just trying to figure out what made you want to put your foot down, after all this time.”
She looks over at the bookshelf. “Because,” she says simply, “it never stops.”
“Anna,” I say, at the exact same moment as Sara Fitzgerald.
It is my responsibility to explain to Anna that Judge DeSalvo wants a few minutes in private. I need to coach her, so that she says the right things, so that the judge doesn’t throw the case out before she gets what she wants. She is my client; by definition, she is supposed to follow my counsel.
But when I call her name, she turns toward her mother.
“Do you have kids?” Anna asks.
I laugh. “What do you think?”
“It’s probably a good thing,” she admits. “No offense, but you don’t exactly look like a parent.”
This fascinates me. “What do parents look like?”
She seems to think about this. “You know about how the tightrope guy at the circus wants everyone to believe his act is an art, but deep down you can see that he’s really just hoping he makes it all the way across? Like that.”
You might remember the recent case of the firefighters in Worcester, Massachusetts, who were killed in a blaze started by a homeless woman. She knew the fire had started and she left the building, but she never called 911 because she thought she might get into trouble. Six men died that night, and yet the State couldn’t hold this woman responsible, because in America—even if the consequences are tragic—you are not responsible for someone else’s safety. You aren’t obligated to help anyone in distress. Not if you’re the one who started the fire, not if you’re a passerby to a car wreck, not if you’re a perfectly matched donor.
Can you tell me what the right answer is here? […] Because I don’t know where to look for it. I know what’s right. I know what’s fair. But neither of those apply here. I can sit, and I can think about it, and I can tell you what should be and what ought to be. I can even tell you there’s got to be a better solution. But it’s been thirteen years, Mr. Alexander, and I still haven’t found it.
