Among the multitude of scholars and authors, we feel no hallowing presence; we are sensible of a knack and skill rather than of inspiration; they have a light, and know not whence it comes, and call it their own; their talent is some exaggerated faculty, some overgrown member, so that their strength is a disease.
When I Was 17, My Father Was So Stupid, I Didn't Want To Be Seen With Him In Public. When I Was 24, I Was Amazed at How Much The Old Man Had learned In Just 7 Years.
I Honestly Didn't Think miracles Could Ever Come from My Broken Pieces, and I Was Disabled In Fear that My Dreams Would Always remain As Dreams. Don't Give Up On You. Don't Give Up On God. Don't Give Up On Love.