Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time, / Why should I strive to set the crooked straight? / Let it suffice me that my murmuring rhyme / Beats with light wing against the ivory gate, / Telling a tale not too importunate.

Dreamer of dreams, born out of my due time,Why should I strive to set the crooked straight?

Improvement makes straight roads; but the crooked roads without improvement are roads of genius

Time has no care for a dreamer.

Let dead hearts tarry and trade and marry,And trembling nurse their dreams of mirth,While we the living our lives are givingTo bring the bright new world to birth.

We're people who want to make a difference and help. It's time to set the record straight: We're not bootstrapping, skull-crushing mercenaries. We don't believe we'll make a profit here. We ran to the fire because it was burning.