Compromise Is Necessary So Long

I Hate The Thought Of Her Being Forced Into A Box That Doesn't Fit Her. Of Having Her Wings Cut Off, Her Sight Blinded, Her Hearing Muted, Her Voice Stilled.

[she] Had Felt Straight Away That She Wasn’t Meeting A New Friend, But Recognizing An Old One.

I Do Believe In An Everyday Sort Of Magic -- The Inexplicable Connectedness We Sometimes Experience With Places, People, Works Of Art And The Like; The Eerie Appropriateness Of Moments Of Synchronicity; The Whispered Voice, The Hidden Presence, When We Think We're Alone.

I Believe In A Different Kind Of Magic. The Kind We Make Between Each Other.

Why Did Men Worship In Churches, Locking Themselves Away In The Dark, When The World Lay Beyond Its Doors In All Its Real Glory?