And every dead child is my child.
Every grieving mother is my mother.
Every crying father is my father.
Every home turned to rubble is the
home I grew up in.
Every brother carrying the remains of his
brother across borders is my brother.
Every sister waiting for a sister who will
never come home is my sister.
Every one of these people are ours,
Just like we are theirs.
We belong to them and
they belong to us.
— James Baldwin
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