You're pushing too hard...

Ease up there little man. Use less force, Luke. It's gonna blow if you keep this up. You may be making it work, but the rivets are rattling. Where's the breeze? Where's the skip in your step? Where's that little bell on your tricycle? Sure, it's impressive what you're doing, but you know something? We can feel the pain. We sense something being forced. All the labor in the world can't measure up to half an hour of pure, mad, inspired, joyful expression. You're dried up. You've been juicing that lime for months and all that's left is green powder. Gun powder. Be careful little man. Get liquid before the sparks start flying.

("Child with a Toy Hand Grenade in Central Park, 1962" by Diane Arbus)