People that keep stiff upper lips find that it's hard to smile.

. . . crazy world or maybe it's just the view we have of it, looking through a crack in the door, never being able to see the whole room, the whole picture.

Riding the train gives him too much time to think, he has decided. Too much thinking can ruin you.

The small seed of despair cracks open and sends experimental tendrils upward to the fragile skin of calm holding him together.

People that keep stiff upper lips find that it's hard to smile.

Two separate, distinct personalities, not separate at all, but inextricably bound, soul and body and mind, to each other, how did we get so far apart so fast?

Make notes—I’ve lost more material than I’ve ever written. Contrary to popular opinion, it’s not still up there in one’s brain. It’s in outer space and it ain’t coming back.