There are worse moments in old age than recalling some long-ago embarrassment and realizing that you have outlived all the witnesses to it.
You can look upon life as dust to dust or you can look upon life as seed to seed.
Sign over the gates of Hell, "DOESN'T MEAN YOU'RE A BAD PERSON."
We all know them -- people who, if they end up in the fires of Hell, will complain about their neighbors screaming too loudly.
Parenting, too, is an art form, although one in which you don't get to hide your early, amateur works in the attic.
No one really wants to be someone else. We want to be ourselves, only with someone else's brains and talents and physical reflection in a mirror.
We crave understanding, believing that with understanding will come approval. But not everyone who disapproves of us misunderstands us.