Never love a wild thing… He was always lugging home wild things. A hawk with a hurt wing. One time it was a full-grown bobcat with a broken leg. But you can’t give your heart to a wild thing: the more you do, the stronger they get. Until they’re strong enough to run into the woods. Or fly into a tree. Then a taller tree. Then the sky. That’s how you end up… If you let yourself love a wild thing. You’ll end up looking at the sky. Breakfast at Tiffany’s, Truman Capote
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