" I once found a phoenix
charred in its own ashes. I
brought it home with
me, wept through the night,
and then tossed it to
the wind--its brittle body
dispersing all about.

This thing without
a name and deep within
me--how it truly believes
that if something is meant
to take flight, then it
must one way or another. "

― J. Andrew Schrecker , Insomniacs, We