Kelby

“In the Savage Garden you shine beautifully, my friend. You walk as if it is your garden to do with as you please. And in my wanderings, I always return to you. I always return to see the colours of the garden in your shadow, or reflected in your eyes, perhaps, or to hear of your latest follies and mad obsessions.”
― Anne Rice, Memnoch the Devil

“Matter

You may not believe in magic,

But don't you think it strange,

The amount of matter in our universe,

Has never slightly changed,

That all which makes your body,

Was once part of something more,

And every breath you ever breathe,

Has seen it all before,

There are countless scores of beauty,

In all the things that you despise,

It could once have been a shooting star,

That now makes up your thighs,

And atoms of forgotten life,

Who've long since ceased to roam,

May now have the great honour,

To call your crooked smile their home,

You may not believe in magic,

But I thought that you should know,

The makings of your heart were born,

Fourteen billion years ago,

So next time you feel lonely,

When this world makes you feel small,

Just remember that it's part of you,

And you're part of it all.”
― Erin Hanson

“I can text in complete sentences. Oh, yeah, it’s a skill.” He smiled, proud of his accomplishments. “And, thanks to my mom being a competitive dancer as a teen, I know how to do the Lindy hop and the jitterbug.”
I sat bolt upright, and Akinli rolled his eyes.
“I swear, if you tell me you can jitterbug, I’m going to . . . I don’t even know. Set something on fire. No one can dance like that.”
I pursed my lips and dusted off my shoulder, a thing I’d seen Elizabeth do when she was bragging.
As if he was accepting a challenge, he shrugged off his backpack and stood, holding out a hand for me.
I took it and positioned myself in front of him as he shook his head, grinning.
“All right, we’ll take this slow. Five, six, seven, eight.”
In unison, we rock stepped and triple stepped, falling into the rhythm in our head. After a minute, he got brave and swung me around, lining me up for those peppy kicks I loved so much.
People walked by, pointing and laughing, but it was one of those moments when I knew we weren’t being mocked; we were being envied.
We stepped on each other’s toes more than once, and after he accidentally knocked his head into my shoulder, he threw his hands up.
“Unbelievable,” he said, almost as if he was complaining. “I can’t wait to tell my mom this. She’s gonna think I’m lying. All those years dancing in the kitchen thinking I was special, and then I run across a master.”
― Kiera Cass, The Siren

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a model maker, a potter, a dancer, a programmer, a writer, a political activist, a teacher, a musician, a milliner, whatever. It’s all the same. Making is making, and none of it is failure.”
― Adam Savage, Every Tool's A Hammer: Life Is What You Make It