The Wilds Aren't Safe Anymore.

If Singing Were A Feeling It Would Be This, This Light, This Lifting, Like Laughing.

Mistake, Mistake, Mistake. A Strange Word: Stinging, Somehow.

I Love You. Remember. They Cannot Take It

Of All The Miracles Po Had Seen In The Time And Space Of Its Death, Po Thought This--the Absorption Of Another, The Carrying Of It--was The Most Bewildering And Remarkable Of All. Whenever Bundle Separated Again, Po Was Left With An Ache Of Sadness That Reminded The Ghost Of The Body It Had Left Behind.

Happiness Is Found When No One Is Looking