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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.

Wisdom begins in wonder.

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.