If writing is your hunger and your thirst, and if you choose not to follow your dream because you’re afraid, you’ll pay a price for that, too—-you’ll pay with the progressive deadening of your soul, as time and your own disillusionment with yourself eat away at who you are. One day you’ll wake up and discover that the part of yourself that knew how to dream—-and how to fly—-has died, and that you are forever after bound to the ground, with only the memory that you once had wings.
Every dreamer pays a price. But so does everyone who fears to dream.
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actually the most adorable thing ever oh my god