I Was Going To Be A Scientist.

The Greatest Religions Convert The World Through Stories.

Who Knows, Maybe This Whole Planet Is An Asylum, A Penal Realm. A Place For Hard Cases.

We Have Fallen Into This Very Mean Description Of Humanity. Naturalism In Fiction Is Too Reductive In Its Definition Of Human Beings.

The Fact Of Storytelling Hints At A Fundamental Human Unease, Hints At Human Imperfection. Where There Is Perfection There Is No Story To Tell.

Only Those Who Truly Love And Who Are Truly Strong Can Sustain Their Lives As A Dream. You Dwell In Your Own Enchantment. Life Throws Stones At You, But Your Love And Your Dream Change Those Stones Into The Flowers Of Discovery. Even If You Lose, Or Are Defeated By Things, Your Triumph Will Always Be Exemplary. And If No One Knows It, Then There Are Places That Do. People Like You Enrich The Dreams Of The Worlds, And It Is Dreams That Create History. People Like You Are Unknowing Transformers Of Things, Protected By Your Own Fairy-tale, By Love.