Tell you what," he said, noticing my stare. "I know you can't get a license, but I might be able to do something better. " "What?" He smiled. "How would you like to come to school with me tomorrow and see a real, live locker?" I'm pretty sure I squealed.
I am not talking to you now through the medium of custom, conventionalities, nor even of mortal flesh: it is my spirit that addresses your spirit; just as if both had passed through the grave, and we stood at God's feet, equal--as we are!