"Blasting away at those human silhouettes. Snarling, daring the world to tackle you, guns hidden everywhere. That day you told me you'd spent your life enduring what fate threw at you, but you were not just going to endure any more — you were going to fight to protect your own. You were very angry that day, Shane, and very bitter."
"Yes."
"Now, I know you're still an endurer. And I know you're still a fighter. The world is still full of death and tragedy. In spite of all that, somehow you just aren't bitter any more."
"No."
"Share the secret?"
"I've learned the third great lesson, that's all. As a kid I learned to endure. After Danny was killed, I learned to fight. Now I'm still an endurer and a fighter — but I've also learned to accept. Fate is."
"Sounds very Eastern-mystic-transcendental-bullshit, Shane. 'Jeez. 'Fate is.' Next you'll be telling me to chant a mantra and contemplate my navel."
"Stuffed with twins, as you are," Laura said, "you can't even see your navel."
"Oh, yes, I can — with just the right arrangement of mirrors."
Laura laughed. "I love you, Thelma."
"I love you, Sis."
They rocked and rocked.
Down on the shore, the tide was coming in.