The aftermath of joy is not usually more joy.
Don't sacrifice yourself for me. I will not be grateful.
Neat trick: to be roused to ambition and reconciled to one's mediocrity at the same time.
The same old thing--even if it's champagne--is still the same old thing.
Life just keeps unfolding, ignoring our praise or blame.
I feel disappointed, but I don't remember just what I expected.