I Want To Be Magic. I Want

One Expected Growth, Change; Without It, The World Was Less, The Well Of Inspiration Dried Up, The Muses Fled.

Like Legend And Myth, Magic Fades When It Is Unused.

Witchery Is Merely A Word For What We Are All Capable Of.

You've Got To Find Yourself First. Everything Else'll Follow.

I Envy The Music Lovers Hear. I See Them Walking Hand In Hand, Standing Close To Each Other In A Queue At A Theater Or Subway Station, Heads Touching While They Sit On A Park Bench, And I Ache To Hear The Song That Plays Between Them: The Stirring Chords Of Romance's First Bloom, The Stately Airs That Whisper Between A Couple Long In Love. You Can See It In The Way They Look At Each Other... You Can Almost Hear It. Almost, But Not Quite, Because The Music Belongs To Them And All You Can Have Of It Is A Vague Echo That Rises Up From The Bittersweet Murmur And Shuffle Of Your Own Memories.