I Don't Want To Go To Peru.

Procrastinatio N Is The Thief Of Dreams

I Have Learned That Real Angels Don't Have Gossamer White Robes And Cherubic Skin, They Have Calloused Hands And Smell Of The Days' Sweat.

Usually The Most Interesting Stories Are Written Not On Paper But Hearts.

Dance. Dance For The Joy And Breath Of Childhood. Dance For All Children, Including That Child Who Is Still Somewhere Entombed Beneath The Responsibility And Skepticism Of Adulthood. Embrace The Moment Before It Escapes From Our Grasp. For The Only Promise Of Childhood, Of Any Childhood, Is That It Will Someday End. And In The End, We Must Ask Ourselves What We Have Given Our Children To Take Its Place. And Is It Enough?

Can You Ever Forgive Me? I Already Have. How Could You? I Don't Deserve It. That's What Makes It Love.