Somebody said that – certainly once or twice before Thomas Wolfe made it famous – and while it's obviously not true in the literal sense, it certainly should be a rule to live by (unless you left something at home that's really important in which case I'd suggest hurrying there, getting it without talking to anyone and then leaving again very quickly, preferably by the back door).
Life goes on, and so it should, and we all learn the hard way that we outgrow our childhood bedrooms and our school halls and even our families themselves.
The Voynich manuscript is an illustrated codex hand-written in an unknown writing system.
The vellum on which it is written has been carbon-dated to the early 15th century (1404–1438), and it may have been composed in Northern Italy during the Italian Renaissance.
That's not to say forget about mum and dad and sis and Uncle __ __ (fill in the blank) but all of us, especially those who make a living by turning the page and exploring new worlds each night on the stage, need to keep moving toward the horizon and pushing ourselves to conquer the next audition, the next role or the next production.
I come to life in the artificial surroundings of the playhouse.
I don't know why that is – I only know and believe it to be true.
Some of the pages are missing, with around 240 remaining.
The text is written from left to right, and most of the pages have illustrations or diagrams. The Voynich manuscript has been studied by many professional and amateur cryptographers, including American and British codebreakers from both World War I and World War II.