I think we lose something by growing up. Definitely. For instance, I used to be able to fly. Not a lot. But every now and then. Down the stairs to breakfast, back and forth from the bathroom. That sort of thing. I don’t expect you to believe me. Nobody ever saw me do it and the only people I ever mentioned it to dismissed it immediately. But I did. The last time I did it I was almost five, it was early morning, I was wearing a white flannel night-gown, I flew down to the kitchen and out the back door, then across the snow-covered yard and up into the mulberry tree. I stayed up there for a few minutes until I got cold, then I flew in and back to bed. After that I knew it was over, I didn’t even try to do it again, I knew I wouldn’t be able to. I lost it. I settled. I think you either get used to settling and that’s what you do for the rest of your life, or you never do learn to settle and you spend your life yearning for things that you once had. So I became a nurse. –Nurse, in Ellen McLaughlin, A Narrow Bed