[during arthur's christmas, a ridiculous read-aloud book for which i didn't even really try to assign a real objective other than imparting the idea that good readers read for fun]
“ms. garnett? why are you crying?”
“if i wanted to talk about that, i would.”
the bizarre, and utterly exhausting, fact about this work is that your heart is always both full and broken. or, at least, mine is.