Magic Becomes Art When It Has Nothing

If We Could Be Pure Dancers In Spirit We Would Never Be Afraid To Love, And We Would Love With Strength And Wisdom.

We Plan Our Lives According To A Dream That Came To Us In Our Childhood, And We Find That Life Alters Our Plans. And Yet, At The End, From A Rare Height, We Also See That Our Dream Was Our Fate. It's Just That Providence Had Other Ideas As To How We Would Get There. Destiny Plans A Different Route, Or Turns The Dream Around, As If It Were A Riddle, And Fulfills The Dream In Ways We Couldn't Have Expected.

Maybe There Are Only Three Kinds Of Stories: Those We Live, Those We Tell, And Those That Help Our Souls Fly Upwards To A Greater Life.

It Is Easy To Forget How Mysterious And Mighty Stories Are. They Do Their Work In Silence, Invisibly. They Work With All The Internal Materials Of Your Mind And Self. They Become Part Of You While Changing You. Beware The Stories You Read Or Tell; Subtly, At Night, Beneath The Waters Of Consciousness, They Are Altering Your World.

Only Those Who Truly Love And Who Are Truly Strong Can Sustain Their Lives As A Dream. You Dwell In Your Own Enchantment. Life Throws Stones At You, But Your Love And Your Dream Change Those Stones Into The Flowers Of Discovery. Even If You Lose, Or Are Defeated By Things, Your Triumph Will Always Be Exemplary. And If No One Knows It, Then There Are Places That Do. People Like You Enrich The Dreams Of The Worlds, And It Is Dreams That Create History. People Like You Are Unknowing Transformers Of Things, Protected By Your Own Fairy-tale, By Love.