Then, too, at sea—to use a homely but expressive phrase—you miss a man so much. A dozen men are shut up together in a little bark, upon the wide, wide sea, and for months and months see no forms and hear no voices but their own, and one is taken suddenly from among them, and they miss him at every turn. It is like losing a limb. There are no new faces or new scenes to fill up the gap. There is always an empty berth in the forecastle, and one man wanting when the small night watch is mustered. There is one less to take up the wheel, and one less to lay out with you upon the yard. You miss his form, and the sound of his voice, for habit had made them almost necessary to you, and each of your senses feels the loss.
—a sailor's diary entry, on losing a shipmate, ca. 1834 (from Two Years Before the Mast by Richard Henry Dana Jr.)
Would have been so funny if All Might had promised to give Izuku OFA after cleaning up the beach and then after Izuku was done, told him “There is no quirk. We just train until we get so ripped that everyone thinks it’s super strength.”
Harry: i grew up with a lesbian mother and a bisexual father, both of which have a wife and husband so I didn’t know straight people existed until I was like 6
Ron: [is confused on who has a wife and who has a husband] Hold up, I’m confused say that again but slow