The act of thinking is man’s primary act of choice.

Shakespeare shook his head and sunk his chin into his ruff, making him look more owl-like than ever. “I have written about other worlds often enough. I have said what I can say. There are many kinds of reality. This is but one kind.

Willie Nelson, out there 200 days a year, calls his band family. And it is.

They dined on mince, and slices of quince Which they ate with a runcible spoon; And hand in hand, on the edge of the sand, They danced by the light of the moon.

Written By Edward Lear

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