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If a man has one person, just one in his life,

To whom he is willing to confess everything-

And that includes, mind you, not only things criminal,

Not only turpitude, meanness and cowardice,

But also situations which are simply ridiculous,

When he has played the fool (as who has not?)-

Then he loves that person, and his love will save him.

-T.S. Eliot

“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse…. “When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become real. It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time…Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

-The Velveteen Rabbit