That thing we'd been searching for: nameless, faceless, shapeless as quicksilver -- it never existed. It was a mirage. We were chasing a ghost and we knew it. There was no destination, just the journey; just the moment. It was all about the kick of the ride. You stomp on that damn accelerator and hold on for dear life. All you can ever hope for is one wild, drunken, kick-ass, mother-humper-of-a-ride. And it was.
À vingt ans , on danse au centre du monde .À trante, on erre dans le cercle. À cinquante, on marche sur la circonférence , évitant de regarder vers l'extérieur comme vers l'interieur. Plus tard, c'est sans importance , privilège des enfants et des vieillards, on est invisible.
Humans were always trying to fit in. Many of them didn’t feel like they belonged. When someone came along and was brave enough to show the truth of who they were, flaws and all, it could inspire others to accept themselves as they were.
we expect people to stay true to their words. we expect people to stay as they are. but change is the only constant in life. and people change as the seasons do.
I chided her gently, reminding her that you can't make these unilateral pacts with life. You can't say: that's it, my emotions are securely locked away, now I'm impregnable, safe from the world's cruelties and disappointments. Better to take them on, come what may, I said, see what strength you have within you.