How could you fall in love with a three inch worm?
It's not what you are. It's what you do.
Uncle Jeb," we croaked in surprise. "You found us." "Well, now," he said, and his gruff voice brought back a hundred memories. "Well, now, here's a pickle.
He was my best friend. I would always love him, and it would never, ever be enough.
Sometimes I’m afraid that I’m losing myself.
How did people do this - swallow all their fears and trust someone else so implicitly with every imperfection and fear they had.