Rest is the sweet sauce of labor.
Books...are like lobster shells, we surround ourselves with 'em, then we grow out of 'em and leave 'em behind, as evidence of our earlier stages of development.
Do it now. It is not safe to leave a generous feeling to the cooling influences of the world.
She screamed as she went down, and I saw her thrashing to get up, but she couldn't, the crowd's pressure was too strong.
All that is human must retrograde if it does not advance.
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.
My home is not a place, it is people.