Some Things Arrive In Their Own Mysterious

There Are Two Kinds Of People. One Kind, You Can Just Tell By Looking At Them At What Point They Congealed Into Their Final Selves. It Might Be A Very Nice Self, But You Know You Can Expect No More Surprises From It. Whereas, The Other Kind Keep Moving, Changing... They Are Fluid. They Keep Moving Forward And Making New Trysts With Life, And The Motion Of It Keeps Them Young. In My Opinion, They Are The Only People Who Are Still Alive. You Must Be Constantly On Your Guard Against Congealing.

The Race Of Children Possesses Magically Sagacious Powers.

Who Wanted To Creep Along In Comfort When There Was One Chance In A Thousand Of Flying?

Heroics Are Not Easily Had For The Young In Our Times. Perhaps That Is Why They Go To Such Extremes To Create Their Own Dangers.

I Believe That Dreams Transport Us Through The Underside Of Our Days, And That If We Wish To Become Acquainted With The Dark Side Of What We Are, The Signposts Are There, Waiting For Us To Translate Them.