• When her hands reached out and poured the tea, it was as if she also poured something into me while I sat there sweating in my cab. It was like she held a string and pulled on it just slightly to open me up. She got in, put a piece of herself inside me, and left again.

    Markus Zusak (2007). “I Am the Messenger”, p.48, Knopf Books for Young Readers