words

To be adored for your perfection is to live in a prison of your own making.

I sit at my desk eight or so hours a day because I think I’m supposed to, and about halfway through the day I begin to fully collapse and melt into my desk.

We don't act on ideas because untested fantasies are the emotional equivalent of unboxed collectibles — more valuable in their pristine, theoretical packaging. If we never test them, we never have to slam that door shut. And if that door stays perpetually ajar, we can maintain the comforting delusion that infinite possibilities remain eternally... See more