This Was My Modest Dream

What Makes Humans Human Is Precisely That They Do Not Know The Future. That Is Why They Do The Fateful And Amusing Things They Do: Who Can Say How Anything Will Turn Out? Therein Lies The Only Hope For Redemption, Discovery, And-let’s Be Frank—fun, Fun, Fun! There Might Be Things People Will Get Away With. And Not Just Motel Towels. There Might Be Great Illicit Loves, Enduring Joy, Faith-shaking Accidents With Farm Machinery. But You Have To Not Know In Order To See What Stories Your Life’s Efforts Bring You. The Mystery Is All.

They Had, Finally, The Only Thing Anyone Really Wants In Life: Someone To Hold Your Hand When You Die.

I Don't Think Of Any Sentence As A "one-liner", But I Do Pay Attention To How People Actually Speak When They Are Being Funny. Rhythm Is Key.

Love Is The Answer, Said The Songs, And That's Ok. It Was Ok, I Supposed, As An Answer. But No More Than That. It Was Not A Solution; It Wasn't Really Even An Answer, Just A Reply.

She Was Unequal To Anyone's Wistfulness. She Had Made Too Little Of Her Life. Its Loneliness Shamed Her Like A Crime.