Unlike the phoenix that can rise from the ashes of its own death, I can only haunt the heart and memories of others.

when everything else falls apart and crumples away.... your will and soul is still there

just because theres a goalie, doesnt mean you cant score

happyness, is knowing your living right.

the eyes are the window of the heart, and the heart is the house for the soul

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.