Men throw huge shadows on the lawn, don't they? Then, all their lives, they try to run to fit the shadows. But the shadows are always longer. - Ray Bradbury

I like to cry. After I cry hard it’s like it’s morning again and I’m starting the day over.

Mr. Moundshroud, who are YOU?
And Mr. Moundshroud, way up there on the roof, sent his thoughts back:
I think you know, boy, I think you know.
Will we meet again, Mr. Moundshroud?
Many years from now, yes, I’ll come for you.
And a last thought from Tom:
O Mr. Moundshroud, will we EVER stop being afraid of nights and death?
And the thought returned:
When you reach the stars, boy, yes, and live there forever, all the fears will go, and Death himself will die.

You’re a has-been that never was. And you’re going to stay that way, spoiled and narcissistic and small and mean and rotten.