The leaf, still green, must someday fall such grief and joy to live at all.

Why is it that what we do know can save us, but what we don't know can kill us?

It's much more fun to be the exception, not the rule

Hy gododin catann hue Hud a lledrith mal wyddan Gaunce ae bellawn wen cabri Varigal don Fincayra Dravia, dravia Fincayra (Talking trees and walking stones, Giants aare the island's bones. While this land our dance still knows, Varigal crowns Fincayra. Live long, live long Fincayra.

Stories help me. To live. To work. To find the meaning hidden in every dream, ever leaf, every drop of dew.

You're saying that our souls and the stars and the wings of a butterfly are all somehow connected?

Every piece of the universe, even the tiniest little snow crystal, matters somehow. I have a place in the pattern, and so do you. Thinking of you this holiday season!