Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box. Though I've got a few missing it's ok because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life...

- John Mayer

"What a roadtrip stands for is hope. Hope that somewhere, anywhere, is better than here. That somewhere on the road, I will turn into the person I want to be. I will turn into the person I believe I could be, that I am."

-Ira Glass

The woman was a complete mystery. No one really knew who she was. Her presence didn’t give off any special ambience, and she wasn’t exactly the type of lady to receive a second glance. The only person who knew the woman was the woman herself. In contrast to her unknown, she was not a stranger amongst her surroundings. You would see her, you just didn’t know her. She lived her life throughout the small town, never to leave one trace of herself. A ghost, yet not quite. Who is she? 

M

"Excellence is never an accident. It is always the result of high intention, sincere effort, and intelligent execution; it represents the wise choice of many alternatives - choice, not chance, determines your destiny."
~Aristotle