The first vehicle that screamed past -- an ambulance -- didn't even slow down.
I'm struck by the insidious, computer-driven tendency to take things out of the domain of muscular activity and put them into the domain of mental activity. The transfer is not paying off. Sure, muscles are unreliable, but they represent several million years of accumulated finesse.
All movements go too far.
The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it.
More movement, and the sense of bodies being shackled in alongside of me.
Take a two-mile walk every morning before breakfast.
Never does the human soul appear so strong and noble as when it foregoes revenge and dares to forgive an injury.