Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

Ever notice how ‘What the hell’ is always the right answer?

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.