Those who refuse to play second fiddle may wind up playing no fiddle at all.

Hope and despair ignore one another's cries.

Sometimes I discover I have changed my mind because I have forgotten what I used to think.

I would be glad to worship success if I could find her.

Under attack, sentiments harden into dogma.

Guilt agonizes over trifles, ignores habitual wrongdoing.

Change is upsetting. Repetition is tedious. Three cheers for variation!