A sojourner is a person who occupies a space temporarily. We’re all sojourners.
Everything has a relative importance, as a horse does, or a blade of grass. But nothing matters absolutely.
For the perfectionist—hyper-critical, righteous, preoccupied with himself—a healing mantra: “I’m not that important.”
Enough already! If your relationship needs reviving, gown down. The patient has expired.
Let us view the span of our years through the lens of time-lapse photography—and in that corybantic kinesis, in the sudden rising and falling of things, have it made plain: No-thing lasts.
Pleasure is to contentment as bubbles are to water, as froth to the sea.