There Was Some Justice In His Pain

Perfection, In Anything, Is Unbearably Dull. Myself, I Prefer A Touch Of Imperfection.

...she Looked Like The Sort Of Woman Most Men Would Want To Get To Know Because They Weren't Sure What Went On Inside.

There Was Some Justice In His Pain

Twelve Thousand Miles Of It, To The Other Side Of The World. And Whether They Came Home Again Or Not, They Would Belong Neither Here, Nor There, For They Would Have Lived On Two Continents And Sampled Two Different Ways Of Life.

Old Age Is An Ordeal, Of Flesh And Mind. Of Winding Down, Of Slowing Down, Of Dying Cells. It's Accepting The Loss Of Physical Attractiveness And Replacing It With The Power And Wisdom That Can Only Come With Old Age.