Next week shall begin my operations on my hat, on which you know my principal hopes of happiness depend.
Listen to the mustn’ts, child. Listen to the don’ts. Listen to the shouldn’ts, the impossibles, the won’ts. Listen to the never haves, then listen close to me… Anything can happen, child. Anything can be.
Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is a gift of God, which is why we call it the present.
With me, the present is forever, and forever is always shifting, flowing, melting. This second is life. And when it is gone it is dead. But you can’t start over with each new second. You have to judge by what is dead. It’s like quicksand… hopeless from the start.
Our human compassion binds us the one to the other – not in pity or patronizingly, but as human beings who have learnt how to turn our common suffering into hope for the future.
It is only by not paying one’s bills that one can hope to live in the memory of the commercial classes.