It is worth it to leave behing my minor life for grander maybes.
My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.
There are always answers. We just have to be smart enough.
Margo's beauty was a kind of sealed vessel of perfection--uncracked and uncrackable.
She left me enough to rediscover the Great Perhaps.
Isn't it also that on some fundamental level we find it difficult to understand that other people are human beings in the same way that we are? We idealize them as gods or dismiss them as animals.