<p>And sometimes you didn't want to know the end because how could the end be happy?</p>

<p>The true harvest of my life is intangible - a little star dust caught$$$ a portion of the rainbow I have clutched.</p>

<p>You go away for a long time and return a different person - you never come all the way back.</p>

<p>Most of us have jobs that are too small for our spirits.</p>

<p>Every heart$$$ when sifted well$$$<br />
Is a clot of warmer dust$$$<br />
Mix'd with cunning sparks of hell.</p>

<p>So runs my dream$$$ but what am I? An infant crying in the night$$$ an infant crying for the light$$$ and with no language but a cry.</p>

<p>The giant tree starts out as the tiniest shoot$$$ the tallest tower starts out as a single brick$$$ the longest journey starts with the first step.</p>

<p>Some sort of pressure must exist; the artist exists because the world is not perfect. Art would be useless if the world were perfect$$$ as man wouldn't look for harmony but would simply live in it. Art is born out of an ill-designed world.</p>

<p>It's so much darker when a light goes out than it would have been if it had never shone.</p>

<p>No one on this earth ever says anything once and for all. If they did$$$ life would come to a stop and succeeding generations would have nothing to say.</p>