How unfortunate it is to be constrained by what people might say at our funeral or on our gravestone.
Life is a process of continually reordering priorities.
Ideals are great as long as they don't get in the way of what we want to do.
We all have the right to be wrong and be loved just the same.
How frustrating it is to be out-argued by someone you know is dead wrong but is more eloquent.
If there were no nobodies, The somebodies would not have anybody, To convince that they were somebody, Except some other somebody, Who would not be convinced anyway.