"I burn, I freeze; I am never warm. I am rigid; I forgot softness because it did not serve me."

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Your dad would stake me out to freeze if I let you fall and hurt yourself." He offered me his arm, which I latched onto gratefully. "He wouldn't stake you out," I panted as we forced our way through the hard top layer of snow that was almost thigh deep. "He'd just shoot you." "Well that's a comfort.

— P. C. Cast