Where we are going, I don't know. It doesn't seem to be the place that is important but the steps in between.

It can take years to mold a dream. It takes only a fraction of a second for it to be shattered.

Some things aren't meant to be known. Only believed.

When is a cell finally too small to hold our essence?

Whatever you choose for your stationery is your favorite color because it's where you pour your heart out.

When your life has had few events to occupy it, it's amazing how a simple encounter can seem like an entire three-act play.

Pieces. Isn't that what all of life is anyway? Shards. Bits. Moments. Am I less because I have fewer, or do the few I have mean more?