Dream the impossible dream.
I'm a somewhat practical girl. I have a background in finance and a law degree. I also write terrorist novels and am now tackling education (as in fixing). So I guess I'm just better armed than some when charging my windmills.
Don Quixote means a lot to me. First, it's a really good book. The first "novel". Next, Cervantes had a terrible life, including spending time as a slave, yet he produced this iconic book. And, importantly, I still maintain that - in reading the book - the world around our poor Don is more troubled than he is.
Don Quixote died a broken man, as did Cervantes. But look at how he's lasted. Most even moderately literate people know of him and how he chased windmills.
Most men die broken. Don Quixote chased his dream. And he saw, breathed and lived it. Sure he was a little crazy. Don't you have to be when you choose to see the good, even when it isn't really there?
I guess I'd rather my glass was half full and not half empty. Don Quixote is not only my favorite thing of the day he's an everlasting image (and belief system) in my head.
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