The possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination.
In the name of the bee And of the butterfly And of the breeze, amen!
A power of Butterfly must be - The Aptitude to fly Meadows of Majesty concedes And easy Sweeps of Sky -
My best Acquaintances are those With Whom I spoke no Word
I lost a world the other day. Has anybody found? You'll know it by the rows of stars around it's forehead bound. A rich man might not notice it; yet to my frugal eye of more esteem than ducats. Oh! Find it, sir, for me!
One step at a time is all it takes to get you there.