Dere''s A Luxury In
Self-Reproach,
Whn V Blame
Ourselves,
V Feel Dath No One Else
Has A Rite 2 Blame Us.
Its d Confession, Not
The Priest, Dat Gives
Us Absoluti
Drop The Idea Of Becoming Someone,
Because
You Are Already A Masterpiece.
You Cannot Be Improved.
You Have Only To Come To It, To Know It, To Realize It...
Nobody grows old merely by living a number of years. We grow old by deserting our ideals. Years may wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.
