Guilty as hell and free as a bird.
Humble and loveable.
Creatively crazy, yet stable, trustworthy and dependable.
A provocative blend of science and magic.
Served in generous portions.
Bright with the light of kindness and happiness.
On a path of peace, fullfilment, and joy.
Taking care of business.
Fighting the power.
Turning the cowbell up to eleven.
Practicing random acts of awesome.
Pushing the barriers.
Riding the karmic wheel
And eating a good breakfast.
This is my quest.
To pursue grand ideas.
To do good works.
To live long and prosper.
To love everyone.
And to keep on truckin'.
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”