Irving Stone paired it with agony in a biographical novel about Michelangelo. It is a drug you might find at a rave. What a devoted fan feels when their team wins the championship.

I'm said to have died, but show me a woman near a door and see if I let her touch that damn door

Look out your window to solve this riddle. A little further, almost there, oh noooooooo.

In the modern world, I'm collected to give insights, but I wasn't always this. If you go back some years, I allude to a sweet treat, I even had my own jars! I come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; bars and discs and cakes, oh my! Go back even further when I was nowhere as sweet, where I was a steadfast traveling good to keep the hunger at bay.

It can bring out your fight, Or fuel your flight. It can be of darkness, Or of light. An uncomfortable feeling, emotional blight, taking over when you hear bumps in the night. There’s a quote from FDR to pull from the shelf: ‘The only thing we have to this, is this itself’