Peter Pan, not the syndrome, the reality. Not some closet case in green tights like the guy you saw on some freak showcase TV show, but the real item. You’ve got a Wendy in every port, but you would trade them all for the sky, for the freedom to fly. For you OWN this freedom, as so few ever will. You know what that means: it owns you.
Rick McKinney Dead Men Hike No Trails