Hyperion

Tell me, my soul, why art thou restless? Why dost thou look forward to the future with such strong desire? The present is thine,--and the past;--and the future shall be! O that thou didst look forward to the great hereafter with half the longing wherewith thou longest for an earthly future,--which a few days at most will bring thee! to the meeting of the dead, as to the meeting of the absent! Thou glorious spirit-land! O, that I could behold thee as thou art,--the region of life, and light, and love, and the dwelling-place of those beloved ones, whose being has flowed onward like a silver-clear stream into the solemn-sounding main, into the ocean of Eternity.
~Longefellow~

Flight of a Butterfly

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings; Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth Of sun-split clouds-and done a hundred things You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace, Where never the lark, nor even eagle flew - And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod The high, untrespassed sanctity of space, Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

Friendship

The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, nor the kindly smile, nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when he discovers that someone else believes in him and is willing to trust him with his friendship.

"If"

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,But make allowance for their doubting too:If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,Or being hated don't give way to hating,And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterAnd treat those two impostors just the same:If you can bear to hear the truth you've spokenTwisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;If you can make one heap of all your winningsAnd risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,And lose, and start again at your beginnings,And never breathe a word about your loss:If you can force your heart and nerve and sinewTo serve your turn long after they are gone,And so hold on when there is nothing in youExcept the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,If all men count with you, but none too much:If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds' worth of distance run,Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!
~Rudyard Kipling~

The love I seek is so deep, so faithful and true, I wonder if I will ever find someone that will love me in the way I desire. It goes deeper than passion, but as simple as politeness. I desire understanding, and an unfaltering trust. Someone that other than my Father, that I can run to when the world is cruel. Someone who will warm my heart with kindness and firmly speak truth to me in love. Someone that will sit and read with me but will also dance in the rain with me. Love is a funny thing. So often "found" and not kept. Why? Well it is because it was never found, for if it was it would be like a treasure, held tightly and never let go, valued above other things.

Roadrunners Guide to Cartoons

An Animated Cartoon Theology:
People are animals.
The body is mortal and subject to incredible pain.
Life is antagonistic to the living.
The flesh can be sawed, crushed, frozen, stretched, burned, bombed, and plucked for music.
The dumb are abused by the smart and the smart destroyed by their own cunning.
The small are tortured by the large and the large destroyed by their own momentum.
We are able to walk on air, but only as long as our illusion supports us.