To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.

I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock hem up DOES rejoice. Still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend.

A quarry is more than a pit—it's a legacy we leave for future generations.