A transition, barely perceptible; a changing of values, an awakening.  What once was an infinite world has found a definable end, distant but ominous.  Situations are re-evaluated, knowledge enters without filters; the world opens and bares itself.  Independence, true independence is imminent, frightening and exhilarating. 
As time finds context decisions develop greater weight.  I am glad to have practiced balance and (as Mark Twain worded it) to have kept my schooling from interfering with my education.  I am sure my memories will be fond, but where does one draw the line between preparation for the future and contentment with the past?  What gives real meaning to human existence?  Happiness, success, understanding?
Here is the burden of freedom.

I owed my security to the masterly air of the copyist, who, disdaining the letter (which in a painting is all the obtuse can see), gave but the full spirit of his original for my individual contemplation and chagrin.

Edgar Allen Poe

I like this quote because it indicates an awareness of communication through art (or literature, music or anything touched by greatness)

Not Edgar Allen Poe ->