30-Day Writing Challenge (Day One)

30 day writing challenge blog

I recently discovered this picture on Pinterest and decided to take the challenge. I might not post every day, so this might turn into a 3-Month Writing challenge, but here goes nothing.

Day One: Five problems you have with social media.

I grew up with social media. It’s part of my normal. But my mother is very critical of it. She believes that it encourages people to not interact in real life. I do think that social media is extremely useful and brings a lot of joy to a lot of people, but I understand that there are problems with it.

  1. One word: drama. People say things online that they would never say in real life.
  2. And that leads to fights and the second problem, cyber bullying.
  3. People can be very stupid and post things they shouldn’t. These things get them in trouble and can even prevent them from getting jobs.
  4. You can stalk your future roommate and get super freaked out, or you can just generally build expectations about them. Neither of these things are good. Whether you’re expecting a person you haven’t met to be wonderful or terrible, it leads to problems; either you’re going to dread the future, or the person isn’t going to live up to your expectations, and you’ll be disappointed.
  5. It’s addictive. I can spend hours on Pinterest without even realizing it. When my phone buzzes, I immediately jump, not wanting to miss out on anything. I have to actually mute my notifications in order to concentrate on work.

I enjoy social media as much as any other person with a computer. I will be one of the last to give it up. It simply amazes me that I can connect with people around the world without leaving my bedroom. I can make friends, learn about new recipes and craft ideas, and laugh at anonymous people in my hometown.

What are some of your problems with social media? Do you think that the pros outweigh the cons?


Something Fun

I was going to post about my tattoo, but I’m sick of talking about pain at the moment, so instead you get a bird! 🙂

I was dragged to a street fair a few weeks ago with my mother and her friends. I thought I would be bored and hungry the whole time, but I hoped I’d get to see some cool art or something while I was there. Quite honestly, the fair was a bit disappointing. It was much smaller than previous years, and there weren’t a whole lot of people there (either vendors or customers). But there was a bird display, so that was pretty cool.

Some of the birds were rather large and loud (and therefore scary), but there were a couple of smaller ones like this little guy:


He sat on my finger for a good twenty minutes and refused to move. 🙂 He was a sweetheart and only left when the trainer came over to give him a treat. Plus I got a wonderful picture of him. Who knew camera phones could be so good? Overall, a very happy moment.

Fear Less

I recently purchased a bracelet that makes me quite happy. It is a leather band, and it has (fake) rose gold letters on it spelling out FEARLESS. This makes me very happy for multiple reasons. I’ve had problems with panic attacks in the past–and the present, now that I think of it…–and the bracelet kind of serves as a reminder that there is nothing to fear. This tactic is not always useful, but it can help. Also, I think it’s a good thing to have a little pep talk in a highly visible place on my body. You never know who’s facing down fears, who might need that message.

But then I noticed something even cooler. When the letters on the bracelet slide around a bit, a space becomes visible between the R and the L, and the message becomes FEAR LESS. I know that I could certainly fear less things. Not just with the panic attacks, but with everyday situations. How often do I think something would be fun only to hold back a part of myself? How often do I refrain from fully experiencing life because I am afraid? Things like skydiving are completely unreachable goals for me, but also going to a party with my friends. Something thousands of people do every weekend can at times be impossible for me. Because I am afraid.

Even the bravest of us have fears–it’s nearly impossible not to be afraid of something–so I’m not trying to be fearless. But I would like to fear less.


I know that I’ve posted this quote at least twice now, but I was going through my college application essays, and I found something I wrote that I love. I had forgotten about this essay, and I really needed some inspiration, something to remind myself that I’m a better writer than I think I am. So, here goes:

“In the midst of hate, I finally found that within me there lay an invincible love. In the midst of tears, I finally found that within me there lay an invincible smile. In the midst of chaos, I finally found that within me there lay an invincible calm. Through it all, I realized that in the midst of winter, I finally found that within me there lay an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it means that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me there’s something stronger—something better—pushing right back.”

~Albert Camus

There is an overwhelming, all-consuming darkness that can’t be destroyed, beaten, or killed. It exists within every person on earth to varying degrees. Some choose to ignore it. Some choose to fight. Some choose to let it win, but that’s the worst choice of all. Some people choose to find the light within themselves, and they fight tooth and nail to let it shine through.

No, I don’t want to see the darkness, I want to find the light. If I could go anywhere, real or imagined, in all of time and space, I would go to the invincible place inside myself. I would go to that perfect space where nothing can touch me.

Sometimes I close my eyes and try to imagine it, try to see it in my head. I picture laying in the middle of a field with the grass too high and the sun shining. For some reason I’m in a fifties style dress that flows down to my mid-calf. I spread my arms wide and fall backwards into the tall grass. It’s softer than I expect, but after a moment, I realize I can’t feel anything. Not the wind I know is blowing my hair into my face, not the blades I draw between my fingers. Not the fabric fluttering around my legs. At this moment, I realize that the sun is no longer shining. Dark clouds have covered the sky, promising rain. The lightly blowing wind has now become driving and frigid. The pleasant dress is now in tatters, torn apart by the environment I had once thought idyllic.

This is why I don’t try to imagine the invincible summer inside me very often; it always becomes ruined by my mind. But if I could actually go to that place, maybe it would be better. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so bad.

Creating Magic

Over a year ago, my great, great aunt Anne died. She was over ninety years old. Lately, a lot of things have been reminding me of her. Christmas just passed, and it was the first one without her. Also, the anniversary was in January and that’s a hard time, my grandmother just posted the last picture ever taken of her on Facebook, and I’m wearing one of her necklaces right now. So I decided to write my last essay of my first college English class about her. We had a lot in common, but we never really talked about it, and that’s something I regret.

This essay is a collage. What that means in terms of words is that it’s fractured. It’s bits and pieces of a story stuck together with no transitions and seemingly no order. But the reader gets to figure out how they work together. It’s pretty awesome, and I was really excited to challenge myself this way.

So, any way, here’s my essay, and I hope you enjoy!

Creating Magic

It is not easy to understand why we want to do one thing more than any other. It is certain that we all are not prompted to do the same thing. With one it is music, with another his easel, while another thrills at the thought of becoming an engineer or an architect. Within our very being, there persists a certain drive, causing us to dream, and to try to fulfill that dream (Chappell).


The first time I met my Aunt Anne, she was in an assisted living home in Gadsden, Alabama, a small town about an hour’s drive from the Georgian border. Gadsden is a rundown old town with about four restaurants, three hospitals, two grocery stores, a Goodwill, and a nursing home or twelve. Anne was well into her eighties, but she still had her mind. That’s what my grandmother, a sweet woman who uses words like “shitfire” and “damnation,” always said: her body might be failing, but her mind is still strong. That seemed to me to be her only accomplishment, her strong mind. I later learned that throughout her life she’d had two successful marriages (more than most Americans can say), been an amazing artist, journalist, and poet, and been deeply involved in the church. And yet, in her old age, she had been reduced to a mind, a memory.


#85: Because creating something that didn’t exist before is as close to magic as I’ll ever get (Writers Write).


Again as I search for the reason why, I am reminded that the descriptive word is necessary to reveal the full beauty of a painter’s masterpiece, the architect’s skyscraper, the engineer’s bridge, or the landscaper’s paradise. Millions never see man’s greatest works of art but by the written word (Chappell).


“I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters I am not. I write to explore all of the things I’m afraid of.”                                                                     

 ~Joss Whedon


My aunt was the kind of person to aim high. Forget the sky as the limit; she was shooting for the moon. She never let anyone tell her she couldn’t do something, she just did it, and she always managed to excel. She even failed spectacularly before brushing herself off and trying again. Also, she never just wore clothes. It was always outfits. Even if she was just tottering down the hall to get her hair cut every other Tuesday, she had to find clothes that matched and looked good.


#127: Because a single word can start a revolution, and I want to change the world (Writers Write).


A luminous atmospheric phenomenon appearing as streamers or bands of light sometimes visible in the night sky in northern regions of the earth. It is thought to be caused by charged particles from the sun entering the earth’s magnetic field and stimulating molecules in the atmosphere (“Aurora Borealis”).


Words have impact. Words can change the world. Without words, we would not be able to communicate more than the most basic of needs, the simplest of ideas. Words define the world around us and transform it from an enigma into something manageable and concrete. Yes, sometimes words can take the magic out of things. A cold, clinical definition of the Northern lights, for example, undermines their beauty, but thousands of poems written about those same lights counteract that definition. Words can give beauty and take it away. They can create magic and destroy it. You have to be careful with the words you give to people because they can hurt, but if you use them the right way, you can turn a person’s life around. You can move the path their feet follow. When the right words are strung together, they can change your entire view of a situation, or a person, or the entire world.


The northern cheek of the heavens,

By a sudden glory kissed,

Blushed to the tint of roses,

And hid in an amber mist,

And through the northern pathway,

Trailing her robe of flame,

The queenly Borealis

In her dazzling beauty came!


I stood and watched the tilting

Of each dainty, rosy lance,

As it seemed to pierce the bosom

Of an emerald expanse;

And I thought if heaven’s gateway

Is so very fair to see,

What must the inner glory

Of the “many mansions” be? (Smith, lines 1-16)


 “One must always be careful of books, for words have the power to change us.”

~Cassandra Clare


“There are some books on that bottom shelf over there that I think you might like,” she said, pointing a crooked finger perched on a shaking hand.

“These books?” I asked, grimacing at the sight of the old, heavy textbooks adorning her bottom shelf.

“Yes. They’re about writing and such. I think you’ll like them. Martha said you like to write.”

I nodded eagerly. “I’m going to be a writer someday,” I told her proudly.

She just smiled and nodded, likely laughing at the eagerness of a child.

At the end of the visit, I tried to sneak out before she could remember the books, but my grandmother caught my arm, shaking her head disapprovingly.

“Aunt Anne, you were going to give her some books,” my grandmother gently prompted the half-asleep old woman.

Anne made an affirmative noise and vaguely gestured to the bookshelf once again. Sighing, I went over and grabbed the text books.

“This set, too,” Anne told me, suddenly much more awake.

Huffing, I picked up three very heavy binders and four more ugly brown books, all with the title Famous Writers Course, knowing I’d never open them willingly.

“Thank you,” I told her at my grandmother’s prodding.

I hauled the books out into the car, and immediately shoved them into the back of my closet when I got home, determined never to so much as look at the books.


Now I wonder why they were so offensive to me. Why couldn’t I have just opened the damn books, rifled through the binders a bit, skimmed the pages? Would things have been different if I had? Would I have been able to have an actual conversation with my great, great aunt instead of just talks about the weather or long dead family members? Or would the gap between our generations still have won out in the end?


#140: Because I want to taste the stars (Writers Write).


Aging is a sad, beautiful, terrible thing. It steals memory and gives wisdom. In many, it creates a stubbornness rivaled by mules. It makes the bones brittle, the eyes weak, and the heart strong. It makes a person want to connect with their family at a time when those younger relatives are too caught up in their own lives to make time for trips to the nursing home


In the movie The Lion King, Mufasa tells Simba that the great kings of the past look down on them from the stars. When I look up at the sky, sometimes I think about that. I imagine that each star is somebody’s deceased loved one, looking down on them and providing bright points of light from that sea of darkness. I imagine that Aunt Anne is up there, watching my many fumbles, my half-hearted pursuit of the dream she held, too, and it comforts me.


#87: Because I don’t want to leave this world empty-handed; I want to leave having created something beautiful (Writers Write).


Another reason for wanting to write is the knowledge of the power of words, especially the written word. The spoken word may soon be forgotten, but the written words can be passed on from generation to generation. It is on this “written foundation” that our youth will build. Also, how they build will be greatly determined by the writer’s pen. This fact evokes within me a deep and strong desire to leave some word of strength and guidance to those who read (Chappell).


#46: Because I want to inspire my readers someday (Writers Write).


It was a dark and stormy night. Such a cliché, but it was. I couldn’t sleep for the thousandth night that month, and all I could think about was the funeral I had just been to. Was it always like that? So uncomfortable, so cold, so unlike her? I felt a million miles away from every other person in the world. I felt like no one else could ever understand my pain.

Climbing out of bed, I wandered to my closet. I dug through the many piles of clothes, books, and random knickknacks until I found what I was looking for. Famous Writer’s Course. I’m not sure what I was thinking. That if I read the same words she did it would make me feel closer to her, maybe. Or, possibly, that I’d see some handwritten notes in the margins of the pages and know it was a sign from her.

But what I found was something far greater. It was an essay that she’d written, decades before I was born, about the reasons she wanted to become a writer. It didn’t have a title, it started with a story about a little boy, and it put into words every single feeling I’d ever had about writing. That was the moment when I realized exactly how alike we were. And it was a moment too late.


Why I Write #198: Because it stops time (Writers Write).

I hope you liked it! I know that at least one reader does! (She knows who she is! :D) So in case you didn’t realize, the italicized parts are from my great, great aunt’s essay that I found. If you’d like to read the whole thing (her essay, that is), I posted it on Wattpad.com here.

Ariadne’s Angels

hewutHQOUEWHY 9Q8UHURIOHY ! I missed three whole entire days! I’m so sorry! 😦 But I do have something for you today! 🙂

So a friend of mine, Ariadne (go check out her blog at andtheangels.wordpress.com!) wrote this amazing essay for a lit class last year, and she’s agreed to let me post it on here. (As long as I give her credit, of course. Hey, this isn’t my essay! It’s my friends! It’s Ari’s! Even though this is totally payback for her stealing my book list post!) I loved this essay. And it doesn’t hurt that she used one of my favorite quotes to write it about! 🙂

Sarah Williams’s “The Old Astronomer”

There is an idea expressed throughout Greek mythology called kleos. The word kleos roughly translates to “glory” and “fame”. However, the connotation of the word means more than just that. Kleos means being remembered throughout time as a hero, as someone who made an impact. It is a word for the desire most humans have burning within them—the desire to leave a mark on society, to have the minstrels sing your name as they tell of greatness. Few people achieve this ultimate remembrance, but those who do may influence generations to come. The writer Sarah Williams (1841-1868) is one of these people. Through her poem “The Old Astronomer”, she has left a mark on us, one hundred and forty-five years later. Her most famous couplet, “Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light/I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night,” (Williams 1) is still a well-known quote in the literary world. This quote, and the poem which includes it, are very profound and meaningful, to the scientist and writer alike. The main idea of Sarah Williams’ poem “The Old Astronomer” is that humans should always pursue science for the betterment of society, but also for the satisfaction of one’s own intellectual curiosity; this poem was influenced by many ideals and people, including the ancient philosophers.

Williams wrote, “So be careful and be faithful, though, like me, you leave no name;/see my boy that nothing turn you to the mere pursuit of fame” (Williams 2). In these lines, the narrator is telling the pupil not to research because of pressure from society or to get his name in a book. One of the only other reasons the pupil would research so faithfully is the fulfillment of internal intellectual curiosity. Curiosity is a value treasured in humans because it makes us genuinely want to learn. Curiosity is the only reason we know most things we do today. After all, science is not quite defined by the shout of “Eureka!”, as we often think; it is defined by the quiet muttering of, “I wonder why that happened.”

Philosophers and scientists of ancient Greece have a large influence over what we study today. These intellectuals especially influenced the Victorian era. The Victorian people were slowly moving from the mysticism of religion and starting to accept human logic as universal truth: “the rationalism and science of the 19th century industrial revolution was notably unromantic and this sets up a tension that runs thought the Victorian period” (Baraniecki 1). The intellectually inclined of this time had a hard time accepting simple religious explanations, although widespread Christianity was still common. The Greeks did not have the trouble of choosing the pursuit of religion or the pursuit of science, and “it is interesting to think what Homer would have made of all of this. He actually believed in mortals, immortals, and demi-gods and unlike [the Victorian people] he didn’t have to rationalize his belief with Christianity or an industrial revolution” (Baraniecki 1). The famous Greek scientists did not have to work within a limiting religion—most modern religions have certain explanations not to be questioned even by science—as they believed it was their sacred duty to learn and explore their natural curiosity. The Victorian people, however, did have this issue. Scientists of this era were attempting to explain said “unexplainable” truths about life and the universe. However, the view of science did eventually shift: “Now perhaps the industrialist and scientists are the new Heroes without having been identified as such by the Victorian classicists” (Baraniecki 1). Science and religion may always be at war, but in Victorian times, the people became more accepting of both these and of ancient Greek values.

Women have traditionally been the mothers and homemakers of society. Victorian women were no exception: “The life of women in the Victorian era was generally centered on family commitments” (Nickson 1). Williams takes her role to a new level and does not only just help her family, she writes for the public. Sarah Williams is an independent woman, and “much like her poetess foremothers, Williams wrote for the public consumption. She wanted to be read” (Ehnes 1). Williams was a true writer at heart, and she rose above the usual superficial roles of women; people have remarked that song and rhyme simply flowed out of her. She is described “as one who spontaneously produced song, [which] fits the traditional definition of the poetess and serves to minimize Williams’ astute awareness of her position as a female poet and the importance of her now forgotten contributions to the era’s periodical culture” (Ehnes 1). There is a theme of feminine empowerment throughout “The Old Astronomer”. Williams cites the importance of women in early life and retaining these qualities one’s mother teaches one in the lines

Well then, kiss me,—since my mother left her blessing on my brow,

There has been a something wanting in my nature until now;

I can dimly comprehend it,—that I might have been more kind,

Might have cherished you more wisely, as the one I leave behind (Williams 1).

A mother is one’s hero throughout life. She is always there for her children—especially a Victorian woman. Another example of feminine power in “The Old Astronomer” is the lines “What for us are all distractions of men’s fellowship and wiles;/What for us the Goddess Pleasure with her meretricious smiles” (Williams 1). Williams is saying that the narrator and his pupil are not concerned with petty criticism and fame—although they will accept helpful criticism. “The Goddess Pleasure” (Williams 1), is a reference to the Greek goddess Athena, who is the patroness of wisdom and battle. Athena would be a logical mentor for a criticized scientist to look up to, and her “meretricious smiles” (Williams 1) are her sidelong glances from Olympus encouraging the scientist to work on, as if she and he know something the rest of the world does not, and she wants him to discover more. The feminine influence was growing in this period, and women were starting to symbolize more than mothers or maids.

Science and religion are conflicting forces. Science seeks to explain the mystical and unexplainable questions which religion does not need answers to. In the Victorian era, the pursuit of science was relatively new and subject to intense criticism. Some of this was useful to the scientists; some was just unnecessary. The narrator recognizes the difference between the two when he states “But, my pupil, as my pupil you have learned the worth of scorn,/You have laughed with me at pity, we have joyed to be forlorn” (Williams 1). The narrator and his apprentice know what criticism to take into account with their work and what is said simply because  modern science is not yet widely accepted. Williams makes this clear by writing “And remember men will scorn it, ‘tis original and true/And the obloquy of newness may fall bitterly on you” (Williams 1). This is typical of many ideals in most societies; at first they are shunned because of the unfamiliar newness of it all, but eventually the ideals are accepted. After all, “the Victorian era was a period of wide extremes—characterized by industrial reforms, cultural transformations, scientific progress, gracious living, and grinding poverty and wars” (Nickson 1).

Although the narrator’s primary concern was to practice science for the satisfaction of internal curiosity, he also wanted the world to be improved by his findings. He expresses his concern for the continuation of his work, “I have sown, like Tycho Brahé, that a greater man may reap;/But if none should do my reaping, ‘twill disturb me in my sleep” (Williams 2). Upon the narrator’s impending death, he is stating that it will bring him unrest in the afterlife if no one will pursue his science. Earlier in the poem, the narrator has said “But your spirit is untainted, I can dedicate you still/To the service of our science: you will further it? you will!” (Williams 1). He then leaves his pupil with some last instructions,

There are certain calculations I should like to make with you,

To be sure that your deductions will be logical and true;

And remember, “Patience, Patience,” is the watchword of a sage,

Not to-day or yet to-morrow can complete a perfect age (Williams 1).

The narrator is making some last requests to make sure that his student has taken in all the information he can, and will be true to the science. The mentor subtly gives his student a reminder of what is expected of him: “Pray remember that I leave you all my theory complete,/lacking only certain data for your adding, as is meet” (Williams 1). Despite all this, the poem is not solely in favor of all science. There is still the Victorian conflict of science and religion clashing. This work, therefore, turns out to be “a poem that neither defied nor vilified scientists…but sought to present a genuinely sympathetic and human view of its subject” (Martin 1).

Old myths show themselves in the lines “Draw the curtain back for Venus, ere my vision grows too weak:/It is strange the pearly planet should look red as fiery Mars,—” (Williams 2). In old Roman tradition, Venus is the goddess of love, and Mars is the god of war (Aphrodite and Ares, in the Greek legends). These two are the complete opposites of each other, and yet they are lovers. This is symbolized in the way that Williams says Venus looks “red as fiery Mars” (Williams 2), as if the two are not so different at all. This is meant as a symbolism that if even the most unlike beings can get along, humans with different beliefs can, too. However, the real clincher is the last line: “God will mercifully guide me on my way amongst the stars” (Williams 2). This shows that even though it appears that Williams is a proponent of science, and even though Greek philosophers and ideals may have a great influence, it is always the one true God who gets the final word. It is written about Williams that “Some of her hymns—more especially ‘God’s Way,’…—are inspired by the truest religious experience.”(Japp 2)  One can conclude that although she was fond of the sciences, her religion was very dear to her.

When one trains with a teacher for a long period of time, one would always recognize them and remember their time together. The narrator of “The Old Astronomer” grows very close to his old mentor and opens the poem with “Reach me down my Tycho Brahé,—I would know him when we meet,/When I share my later science, sitting humbly at his feet;” (Williams 2). The narrator reminisces of a time when he was the student, learning from the great Tycho Brahé, who “has a strong claim to the title ‘Father of modern Astronomy’ for his insistence on systematic observation” (Martin 1). The idea of an everlasting friendship between two males—and under-romanticizing of male-female relationships—is a very Greek trait. The Greeks believed that a true and loyal friend was one of the most important things to have. Because of this, many relationships between the mentor and student—who spend a lot of time together—become deep and meaningful. Williams shows this in the lines

What, my boy, you are not weeping? You should save your eyes for sight;

You will need them, mine observer, yet for many another night.

I leave none but you, my pupil, unto whom my plans are known.

You ‘have none but me,’ you murmur, and I ‘leave you quite alone’? (Williams 1)

The narrator is dying, and thus the pupil is sad since they have formed such a bond. Williams had a very strong bond with her father, who acted as a mentor. He “had been very successful in life. She was deeply attached to him, and she never fully recovered from the shock of his sudden death” (Japp 1). Four months after this, and after writing this poem, she died of cancer. This poem was sort of a last tribute to her father who had taught her so much. It also was a tribute to the teacher Dr. Plumptre, “to whom she always attributed much impulse to authorship. He was one of the first ones to whom she showed her earliest book…he aided and advised her in many ways” (Japp 1). Williams’s experience with her two mentors gave her a fascination with the relationship between mentors and apprentices, and when she noticed that most of these relationships come from researching in the scientific field, this poem resulted.

Arguably Sarah Williams’s most famous couplet, and the favorite quote of many, is

Though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light.

I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night (Williams 1).

This quote has been an inspiration to countless individuals. It has a deeper meaning than is first apparent. “Though my soul may set in darkness” (Williams 1). This first part of the quote is the narrator telling his pupil that he is a man of science more than religion, and religious people would judge that he has not fulfilled his sacred duties. “It will rise in perfect light” (Williams 1). Though the narrator may not reach Paradise by divine salvation, he can save himself through the power of his mind’s knowledge and satisfied curiosity. He has fulfilled his personal purpose, and therefore will be saved. “I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night” (Williams 1). This line has two meanings. The first meaning is that the stars are the astronomer’s favorite thing, and they protect him from fear of the dark unknown of night. The second meaning is that he has loved the bright points of life and learned so much, that he no longer fears the unknowns of the afterlife.

Sarah Williams was a very religious woman, but she also enjoyed learning. Her interest in mentorship and companionship led to devastation when she lost her father. “The Old Astronomer” is a poem about how she feels these relationships are, and through imagery and feeling, we understand the mutual love of the old astronomer and his pupil—his apprentice. There is clear Greek influence, as well as influence of the period this poem was written. Sarah Williams achieves the ultimate kleos in her beloved couplet. She died young and pure in her late twenties; her faithful readers still hope that she, like the narrator, had “loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night” (Williams 1).

P.S.- sorry about how long it is! But I still think it’s awesome! 🙂


“Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they’ve been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact. It’s an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration. It’s a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing.”

I’m posting this quotation in honor of college finals going on this week and last, as a reminder that we can get through it, and just to give myself a little extra hope while I’m (stu)dying. 🙂 I’m not listing an author for the quotation, because Goodreads has it under several different authors, and it’s impossible to tell who really said it ;). I also have this written very fancily in the front of my Calculus binder (because if ever there was a need for “nothing is impossible,” it’s in Calc), and I’m pretty sure I gave it to one of my friends, as well. I hope it helps you! 🙂