"I do not think the forest would be so bright, nor the water so warm, nor love so sweet, if there were no danger in the lakes".

"It gives me wonder great as my content to see you here before me. O my soul's joy! If after every tempest come such calms, may the winds blow till they have wakened death! And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas Olympus-high and duck again as low as hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, my soul hath no content so absolute that not another comfort like to this succeeds is unknown fate."

Men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. And so we ask ourselves will our actions echo across the centuries? Will strangers hear our names long after we're gone and wonder who were were. How bravely we fought. How fiercely we loved.

Is life as much as it is made up to be in books? Do people really go down in history to be remembered as a great man or woman? Is life really so passionate? We talk about the sweetness of love, intense joy, and bravely fighting. Does it really matter? Does anyone really care? Does it even exist? Maybe life is full of passion and intense for a while, but sooner or later everything dies out. I guess I started wondering if it is worth it to even start loving or caring or feel strongly about something. It will only fade away. Won't it? It's just not fair. Why can't life be as "romantic" as it is in the books? Maybe I am becoming a disillusioned person....Maybe I am just scared.

There is so much to be said and done. But then again, so little is said and so little is actually done. "Seize the day" we say! Run the race that is set before you! Then why does it seem like there is nothing to seize and no race to run?