"My brother believed in all sorts of mythical creatures: pixies, dragons, werewolves, honest men."

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And they both began to laugh over nothing as children will when they are happy together. And they laughed so that in the end they were making as much noise as if they had been two ordinary healthy natural ten-year-old creatures—instead of a hard, little, unloving girl and a sickly boy who believed that he was going to die.

— Frances Hodgson Burnett