time-- goddamn, you're looking old.

[spadeking]

We are blessed, I think, to get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens a certain number of times, and a very small number, really. This I do know. How many more times will you be able to remember a certain afternoon, the way the sun shined and the scent the wind brought, some afternoon that is so deeply a part of your being that you can't even conceive of life without it? Perhaps five or six times more. Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch the full moon rise? Perhaps twenty. And yet it all seems so limitless.

Ignore me, if you will. I have been far too pensive for my own good lately.