“By morning the Flock had forgotten its insanity, but Fletcher had not. ‘Jonathan, remember what you said a long time ago, about loving the Flock enough to return to it and help it learn?’
‘Sure.’
‘I don’t understand how you manage to love a mob of birds that has just tried to kill you.’
‘Oh, Fletch, you don’t love that! You don’t love hatred and evil, of course. You have to practice and see the real gull, the good in every one of them, and to help them see it in themselves. That’s what I mean by love. It’s fun, when you get the knack of it.’”
“And though he tried to look properly severe for his students, Fletcher Seagull suddenly saw them all as they really were, just for a moment, and he more than liked, he loved what it was he saw.”
“Look at Fletcher! Lowell! Charles-Roland! Judy Lee! Are they also special and gifted and divine? No more than you are, no more than I am. The only difference, the very only one, is that they have begun to understand what they really are and have begun to practice it.”