I am often accused of being childish.
I prefer to interpret that as child-like.
I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things.
I tend to exaggerate and fantasize and embellish.
I still listen to instinctual urges.
I play with leaves.
I skip down the street and run against the wind.
I never water my garden without soaking myself.
It has been after such times of joy
that I have achieved my greatest creativity
and produced my best work.
~Leo F. Buscaglia, Bus 9 to Paradise