Life is like a flower with a frog inside. You stick your nose in it so you can enjoy the fragrance, something licks you and you think, "What the hell was that?"
Love is like a snowmobile, racing across the frozen tundra. Suddenly, it flips over, pinning you underneath. At night, the ice weasels come.
Now, when you say Dumbo "flew" were you speaking metaphorically, or are there some aerodynamic hints in the epilogue?