When I look over my past, I see that the stages in my life are like the phases of the moon. I've had periods where I was the waxing gibbous: fat with wealth and success. There have been other seasons when my happiness was like the waning crescent and I watched my joy fade away slowly, merging with the atmosphere around me as if it never existed. Then I felt as if I was left with nothing more than an illusion, but happiness returns in time and glows once more in corpulent fullness. It's time that makes the difference.
How is destruction beautiful?" He asked in a challenging tone."You may think that a broken egg is ugly and messy," she answered, "but the cake it goes into is beautiful and won't hold together without it.""Eggs don't get blown up. They get broken.""You've never seen me bake," she replied with a smirk.