“Folded arms can’t fly.”
“...Molly, at the rail, her wet hair matted down, her dress torn, watching Peter intently until she knew he saw her, then mouthing something... Fly, she was saying, Fly.“I CAN’T,” Peter shouted moving his arms helplessly. “I CAN’T, MOLLY!”
“Folding chairs were flying through the air as if propelled by dozens of invisible Bobby Knights.”
“Then he folded his arms on his chest, so his biceps strained at the sleeves of his t-shirt, courtesy of the arm curl machine.”
“Time folds you in its arms and gives you one last kiss, and then it flattens you out and folds you up and tucks you away until it's time for you to become someone else's past time, and then time folds again.”
“You cannot fly into your own arms.”