“Silly Arther, how could you possibley be afraid of rain?”

“The same way you’re afraid of taking pride in your work.”

“Well, that doesn’t explain much. I don’t take pride in my art because it simply is not very good. But your being afraid of rain; I just don’t understand. Why are you frightened by it? Is it the wetness? The way it makes your skin feel cool and chilled to the bone when it’s cold rain? Or the way it makes your skin feel when it’s sticky rain, that seeps into you and makes your hair stand on end when the blistering heat and humidity take control of our hemisphere? What is it?”

“It’s not any of those things. And our fears are the same, you just don’t realize it. Both of us are afraid of something; you’re afraid to hope. I believe it’s not the greatness you’re afraid of, or what will become of you when people discover your greatness, but it is the fear of being let down, of being rejected. You’re unwilling to take that chance. And until you do, you’ll never be what you want to be.”