I Like Myself Better When I'm With

Scenery Without Solace Is Meaningless.

Why Are We Embarassed By Silence? What Comfort Do We Find In All The Noise?

As Mankind Grew Obsessed With Its Hours, The Sorrow Of Lost Time Became A Permanent Hole In The Human Heart. People Fretted Over Missed Chances, Over Inefficient Days; They Worried Constantly About How Long They Would Live, Because Counting Life’s Moments Had Led, Inevitably, To Counting Them Down. Soon, In Every Nation And In Every Language, Time Became The Most Precious Commodity.

It's The Thinking That Gets You Killed.

Sharing Tales Of Those We've Lost Is How We Keep From Really Losing Them.