I've never felt so... light.

James reared up from his bed and threw himself into Uncle Jem’s arms. He had heard some people found the Silent Brothers frightening, with their silent speech and their stitched eyes, but to him the sight of a Silent Brother’s robe always meant Uncle Jem, always meant steadfast love.

I know,” he said, looking down at himself — skin like papier-mache, ribs like violin strings. “I am not — I mean, I look —”“Beautiful,” she said, and the word was a pronouncement. “You are beautiful, James Carstairs.

He touched her as he would touch his violin: it was how he knew to touch something that was precious and loved.