Every day we slaughter our finest impulses

Every day we slaughter our finest impulses.  That is why we get a heart-ache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty.  Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths.  We all derive from the same source.  There is no mystery about the origin of things.  We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, to discover what is already there.  ~Henry Miller, Sexus

Im not old enough to play baseball

I’m not old enough to play baseball or football.  I’m not eight yet.  My mom told me when you start baseball, you aren’t going to be able to run that fast because you had an operation.  I told Mom I wouldn’t need to run that fast.  When I play baseball, I’ll  just hit them out of the park.  Then I’ll be able to walk.  ~Edward J. McGrath, Jr., "An Exceptional View of Life," quoted in Chicken Soup for the Soul by Jack Canfield & Mark Victor Hansen, 1993