Nunzia

“Una persona non deve essere per forza innamorata di te per cambiarti, e a volte non serve neanche che sia tua amica: basta solo che sia umana con te.”
― Rosalie Hawks, La piccola collezione di verità omesse

“Olujime was a pit fighter, an accountant, a magical warrior, and an ostrich whisperer. Somehow I was not surprised. “Is he going with you?” I asked. Thalia laughed. “No. Just helping us get ready. Seems like a good guy, but I don’t think he’s Hunter material. He’s not even, uh…a Greek-Roman type, is he? I mean, he’s not a legacy of you guys, the Olympians.” “No,” I agreed. “He is from a different tradition and parentage entirely.” Thalia’s short spiky hair rippled in the wind, as if reacting to her uneasiness. “You mean from other gods.” “Of course. He mentioned the Yoruba, though I admit I know very little about their ways.” “How is that possible? Other pantheons of gods, side by side?” I shrugged. I was often surprised by mortals’ limited imaginations, as if the world was an either/or proposition. Sometimes humans seemed as stuck in their thinking as they were in their meat-sack bodies. Not, mind you, that gods were much better. “How could it not be possible?” I countered. “In ancient times, this was common sense. Each country, sometimes each city, had its own pantheon of gods. We Olympians have always been used to living in close proximity to, ah…the competition.” “So you’re the sun god,” Thalia said. “But some other deity from some other culture is also the sun god?” “Exactly. Different manifestations of the same truth.” “I don’t get it.” I spread my hands. “Honestly, Thalia Grace, I don’t know how to explain it any better. But surely you’ve been a demigod long enough to”
― Rick Riordan, The Dark Prophecy

“«[...] L’importanza improvvisa che assume uno sconosciuto incontrato mentre assistevi a un concerto,» aggiunse Leo, «o il contatto che ti resta con qualcuno che ti ha dato un passaggio al momento giusto in un pessimo periodo della tua vita,» trasse un tiro dalla sigaretta e proseguì. «O anche l’uomo che diventa tuo padre perché riempie un posto che nessuno finora si è mai premurato di occupare, e il compagno di scuola o quello di stanza al college che diventa tuo fratello perché sa cosa vuol dire sentirsi soli. Questo è “famiglia” per me[...].»”
― Rosalie Hawks, La piccola collezione di verità omesse

“Credo che una parte più o meno piccola o grande di ogni singola persona al mondo sia composta da verità omesse.
Noi siamo piccole collezioni di verità omesse”
― Rosalie Hawks, La piccola collezione di verità omesse