Depression On My Left, Loneliness On My

Moss Is Inconceivably Strong. Moss Eats Stone; Scarcely Anything, In Return, Eats Moss. Moss Dines Upon Boulders, Slowly But Devastatingly, In A Meal That Lasts For Centuries. Given Enough Time, A Colony Of Moss Can Turn A Cliff Into Gravel, And Turn That Gravel Into Topsoil.

There Is No Choice More Intensely Personal, After All, Than Whom You Choose To Marry; That Choice Tells Us, To A Large Extent, Who You Are.

Whenever I Would Feel Such Happiness My Guilt Alarm Went Off

Marriage Becomes Hard Work Once You Have Poured The Entirety Of Your Life’s Expectations For Happiness Into The Hands Of One Mere Person. Keeping That Going Is Hard Work.

Your Fear Is The Most Boring Thing About You.