I think sometimes that I want to live in a world that is full of fantastic wonders, where beauty hits you over the head with the full force of its pure extravagance and needless perfection.

And then I remember that that is the world I live in. Fantasy isn't something fundamentally alien, but reminds us of what is fundamentally wonderful about our world.

I do not see it because my eyes are half-closed. But sometimes it screams in bold letters, and reminds me that if I were to look I would see the same wonders everywhere.