When we ask for advice, we are usually looking for an accomplice.
Someone's boring me. I think it's me.
For the night was not impartial. No, the night loved some more than others, served some more than others.
We need anything politically important rationed out like Pez: small, sweet, and coming out of a funny, plastic head.
It's all right to have butterflies in your stomach. Just get them to fly in formation.
Every day you may make progress. Every step may be fruitful. Yet there will stretch out before you an ever-lengthening, ever-ascending, ever-improving path. You know you will never get to the end of the journey. But this, so far from discouraging, only adds to the joy and glory of the climb.
It is hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head.