Where would I be without my sense of direction.

The task I've been given seems absurd: To wait here on earth until I no longer exist.

I'm not yet desperate enough to do anything about the conditions that are making me desperate.

Sometimes the only way you can win is to stay out of the game.

I can do only one thing at a time, but I can avoid doing many things simultaneously.

At what point in my struggle with nature will nature finally give up?

Don't wait for a disaster to get to know your neighbors.