When you start in life, if you find you are wrongly placed, don’t hesitate to change, but don’t change because troubles come up and difficulties arise. You must meet and overcome and conquer them. And in meeting and overcoming and conquering them, you will make yourself stronger for the future

When you start in life, if you find you are wrongly placed, don't hesitate to change, but don't change because troubles come up and difficulties arise. You must meet and overcome and conquer them. And in meeting and overcoming and conquering them, you will make yourself stronger for the future

When you start in life, if you find you are wrongly placed, don’t hesitate to change, but don’t change because troubles come up and difficulties arise. You must meet and overcome and conquer them. And in meeting and overcoming and conquering them, you will make yourself stronger for the future. (Charles M. Schwab)

Babette looked too good for the place tonight, but then goodness is only relative after all (“Steps Going Up” aka “Guillotine” aka “Men Must Die”) – Cornell Woolrich, The Ten Faces of Cornell Woolrich: An Inner Sanctum Collection of Novelettes and Short Stories

Babette looked too good for the place tonight, but then goodness is only relative after all (“Steps Going Up” aka “Guillotine” aka “Men Must Die”) – Cornell Woolrich, The Ten Faces of Cornell Woolrich: An Inner Sanctum Collection of Novelettes and Short Stories

I wonder sometimes what the memory of God looks like. Is it a palace of infinite rooms, a chest of many jeweled objects, a long, lonely landscape where each tree recalls an eon, each pebble the life of a man? Where do I live, in the memory of God? – Catherynne M. Valente, The Habitation of the Blessed

I wonder sometimes what the memory of God looks like. Is it a palace of infinite rooms, a chest of many jeweled objects, a long, lonely landscape where each tree recalls an eon, each pebble the life of a man? Where do I live, in the memory of God? - Catherynne M. Valente, The Habitation of the Blessed

I wonder sometimes what the memory of God looks like. Is it a palace of infinite rooms, a chest of many jeweled objects, a long, lonely landscape where each tree recalls an eon, each pebble the life of a man? Where do I live, in the memory of God? – Catherynne M. Valente, The Habitation of the Blessed