What matters is at the end of life, when you're about to pass into oblivion, that you've at least scratched 'Kilroy was here,' on the last wall of the universe.

Some days in late August at home are like this, the air thin and eager like this, with something in it sad and nostalgic and familiar...

Tears flow and smiles fade to the same rhythm of life, to disappear together in the bottomless abyss.

But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.

No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.

A gentleman can live through anything.