You Knew Me. You Knew That Person,

Lost Love Is Still Love. It Takes A Different Form, That's All. You Can't See Their Smile Or Bring Them Food Or Tousle Their Hair Or Move Them Around A Dance Floor. But When Those Senses Weaken Another Heightens. Memory. Memory Becomes Your Partner. You Nurture It. You Hold It. You Dance With It.

I Think We've Created A System Here Where Only The Lifelong Politicians, Who Are Used To This Kind Of Life In The Spotlight And Don't Care, Or People Who Have Egos Along The Lines Of Donald Trump - Who Just Don't Care What People Say About Them - They're The Only People Who Are Ever Going To Run Because Nobody Wants Their Life Dissected As Meanly And As Randomly As Our Media Has Come To Do With Anybody Who Runs For Office.

I Believe The Biggest Themes Of Life Are Put Into The Best Focus When Held Up Against The Very Sharp Light Of Mortality.

Things Change When You're Not In Danger Anymore.

What Do People Fear Most About Death? I Asked The Reb. "fear?" He Thought For A Moment. 'well, For One Thing, What Happens Next? Where Do We Go? Is It What We Imagined?" That's Big. "yes. But There's Something Else." What Else? He Leaned Forward. "being Forgotten," He Whispered.