My Standard Heat of Formation, Broke Down and Sputtering, Is Desperately Endothermic!
The standard heat of reaction
of my brain cells, while chattering this morning,
have quieted with a sigh. Where, I asked you,
where is my intermediate? Give me words!
My silenced hippocampus is hungry for literary digestion
but has an ache, now, with the current military occupation
of Gibbs, Hess, and their army of musketed kiloJoules.

"As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has—or ever will have—something inside that is unique to all time. It's our job to encourage each other to discover that uniqueness and to provide ways of developing its expression."