Before I can accept someone's help, I must accept their presence.
How frustrating it is to be out-argued by someone you know is dead wrong but is more eloquent.
To insist that I am not forgiven is a kind of inverse arrogance.
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.
For some of us life is so fantastic we can't stand it.
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.