My friend, Wonderworker, inadvertantly started me on this particular bent and so should probably be either flogged or flowered appropriately.
Two excerpts. Two authors, each well known in his own right, but perhaps not as widely read as other literary giants:
1st:
When I was daft as urchins are
And full of fairy lore
I shot an arrow at a star
And hit... the barnyard door.
I've shot at heaps of stars since then
And always it's the same;
A barnyard door has mocked me when
Sirius was my aim.
But I'll shoot starward as before
Tho' wide my arrows fall,
I'd rather hit a big barn door
Than never aim at all.
2nd:
"It's a helluva' thing. When a man opens a book or fires a gun he has no idea what the affect will be or how far the shot will travel."
So come on you deep thinkers and ponderers of the imponderable. Share your thoughts and ideas on the subject(s). I'm curious to know your take on these things...