There is child in all of us that refuses to grow up, a child that is in awe of what can be, the polar opposite of the cynic in all of us who despairs over what is. Stories of magic, fantastic monsters, impossible courage and spectacular heroism appeal to this child, instilling it with hope and faith in humanity and in the cosmic order.
Myths are what remain once the history of an event has been forgotten or lost to time. Myths are like the memory of oneβs first crush; the pain and longing one felt at that time is forgotten, but the warmth and sweetness of romance lives on, probably even magnified, larger in the imagination than it was in reality.
