"What hap­pens to me if this slip­per fits?" "I turn you into a hand­some frog."

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I'm scared," she said. "These days I feel like a snail without a shell." "I'm scared too," I said. "I feel like a frog without any webs." She looked up and smiled. Wordlessly we walked over to a shaded part of the building and held each other and kissed, a shell-less snail and a webless frog.

— Haruki Murakami