Come, Enter Into My Imagination

Sometimes I feel like I write so much about athletic adventures and diabetes misadventures that I feel like that's all there is. That is not all there is. So I put together a collection of some of my favourite lines from books, tv themes, broadway musicals and other important moments from childhood, teen life and adulthood. See how many you can place.

If you go out to the woods today, you're sure of a big surprise.

I shall impersonate a man. Come, enter into my imagination and see him. His name...Alonso Quijana.

You take the good, you take the bad. You take them both and there you have...

There is a legend about a bird which sings just once in its life, more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree, and does not rest until it has found one. Then, singing among the savage branches, it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine. And, dying, it rises above its own agony to outcarol the lark and the nightingale. One superlative song, existence the price. But the whole world stills to listen, and God in His heaven smiles. For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain… Or so says the legend.

When the day shall come that we do part," he said softly, and turned to look at me, "if my last words are not 'I love you'-ye'll ken it was because I didna have time.

Oh Captain, my captain.

Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world.

The best laid plans of mice and men.

Dashing and daring, courageous and caring, faithful and friendly with stories to share. All through the forest they sing out in chorus, marching along as their song fills the air.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on.

To strive. To seek. To find. And not to yield.

Out flew the web and floated wide
The mirror crack'd from side to side;
"The curse is come upon me," cried
The Lady of Shalott.

All the guards and all the porters and the stationmaster's daughters will be searching high and low. Saying Skimble, where is Skimble? For unless he's very nimble then the night mail just can't go.

Who can say if I've been changed for the better? But, because I knew you, I have been changed for good.

He's like the son I might have known. If god had granted me a son. The summers die. One by one. How soon they fly. On and on. And I am old. And will be gone.

All saints preserve us! We thought you died, Da! I did son, I passed away... I've come back to tell you something. You're an especially odd boy. You came back from the dead to tell me that I'm odd?

The powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse.

Good night you princes of Maine, you kings of New England.