Two people can have a middling day, but one rounds up and the other rounds down.

Does a rose exist that I might behold it? Or do I exist that a rose might be beheld?

While I occasionally enjoy a bout of nostalgia, I would generally rather dream forward than backward.

Our destiny hides among our free choices, disguised as the free-est of all.

Sometimes it is the person closest to us who must travel the furthest distance to be our friend.

There is a strong chance that siblings who turn out well were hassled by the same parents.

Making a different mistake every day is not only acceptable, it is the definition of progress.