A Far-Flung Life

We think we know who we are: that each day will wake up more or less the same person. But just as rocks are weathered, we are perpetually formed and changed by time and experience until we leave this world with not a single cell we came with.

In the end, we’re all looking for a place to ride out the storm of life.

When you think about it, everyone's life's a prison - of days, sort of. The trick is to get comfortable in it, I reckon. Find your freedom inside whatever your prison is.

There is a time when anything is possible: a time when we could be whoever we dream of being. Then life gets in the way

It’s funny,” Lorna would say. “You feed them the same. You love them the same. But every child’s its own country.

Age creeps up on you a day at a time; sits so quietly on your shoulder that you hardly feel it getting heavier.

Everything that can do you good can also do you harm here—that’s just the way of it.

Then she prays for the strength not to miss the blessings life may bring,

leave this world with not a single cell we came in with. As the ribbon of our life uncoils, the person who goes to sleep is imperceptibly different from the one who wakes up. Sometimes, instead of the gradual metamorphosis, a single event changes a life completely, and when it does, it changes everyone who has ever loved them.

Like they say, ‘There’s nothing as beautiful as a woman who is loved.

You feed them the same. You love them the same. But every child’s its own country.

When you think about it, everyone’s life’s a prison—of days, sort of. The trick is to get comfortable in it, I reckon. Find your freedom inside whatever your prison is.

Keep a place in your heart for things that are beautiful,” Pete would say to her. “Beauty’ll help you get through dark times.

In my book, if you’ve got responsibilities, you may as well shoulder them willingly. Some things, the more you run from them, the harder they hunt you down.