The Fey Wonders Of The World Only

Every Time We Fix Something That Broken, Whether It's A Car Engine Or A Broken Heart, That An Act Of Magic. And What Makes It Magic Is That We Choose To Create Or Help, Just As We Can Choose To Harm.

When You're Touched By Magic, Nothing's Ever Quite The Same Again. What Really Makes Me Sad Is All Those People Who Never Have The Chance To Know That Touch. They're Too Busy, Or They Just Don't Hold With Make-believe, So They Shut The Door Without Really Knowing It Was There To Be Opened In The First Place.

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.

I'm Not Chinese. I Thrive In Interesting Times.

Let It Go On Record That Any Confusion Arose Simply Because We Lacked Certain Commonalities Of Reference.