You Do It A Day At A

And Like Most Middle-aged People Who Hear The Clock Ticking In Their Lives, I Had Come To Resent A Waste Or Theft Of My Time That Was Greater Than Any Theft Of My Goods Or Money.

When People Make A Contract With The Devil And Give Him An Air-conditioned Office To Work In, He Doesn't Go Back Home Easily.

The Real Gladiators Of The World Are So Humble In Their Origins And Unremarkable In Appearance That When We Stand Next To Them In A Grocery-store Line, We Never Guess How Brightly Their Souls Can Burn In The Dark.

My Experience Has Been That People Who Die For Causes Have Few Friends In Death.

Is There A Design In The Events Of Our Lives? Or Do Things Just Happen, Much Like A Junk Yard Falling Down A Staircase? If It's The Latter, How Do You Deal With It?