Life is a process of continually reordering priorities.

How unfortunate it is to be constrained by what people might say at our funeral or on our gravestone.

I feel that the only true security I have is my capacity, however limited, to love.

Everything I do or say will be forgotten in a few short years. Yet how amazing and wonderful it is that somehow I still care, just simply care about whatever I do, and will probably do so until my dying moment.

Ideals are great as long as they don't get in the way of what we want to do.

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.

Life is a process of continually reordering priorities.