Los Angeles

Party of One

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I was driving to a work thing today when I was struck with the idea of going on a date with myself. My boyfriend is out-of-town, and I was thinking of going out with him, but then realized I couldn’t, so thought about going alone and then decided I should make a blog post out of it since my goal is to write at least two posts a month…

Hence, my tale about my party of one.

It started off rough. I almost flaked on myself. After my work meeting, a friend/co-worker asked if I wanted to get some food. My initial thought was yes! But then, I DID make a date just an hour prior so… I mumbled an excuse and proceeded to my car.

I had already looked up showtimes for a movie and had found a Groupon for a Mediterranean restaurant a block from the theater on third street in Santa Monica that I was going to. I considered it fate and bought it, which so happened to be available for one, two or four people. Here’s a little fact by the way – there are very few Groupons good for one person. Either they are more than enough for two to spend or they specifically state that TWO PEOPLE must use it. Geez. Can’t the solo diners get some love too?

Anyway. I drove to the third street mall, which was barely recognizable from the time I worked around the block from it twelve or so years ago. I dug the vibe of silver and modernism of it all, not to mention the three-hour parking that only cost me $2.50.

Hummus Bar Express was yummy! I chose a spot near the front of the communal tables and wouldn’t you know, within minutes, a single lady diner was to my left and to my right. We didn’t say one word to each other, but I think silently we bonded in respect for one another. We solo diners. I got chicken, rice and salad. One of my favorite meals. I only ate half and decided to pack up the rest even though I was going to a movie.

And I’m glad I did because after purchasing a ticket (well, really using a gift certificate I’ve had in my wallet since last Christmas), I entered the theater to discover I was the only one in it. I took center middle seat and propped my feet up. I used to always sit a bit to one side but my boyfriend, being in the sound business, has really convinced me to always go for center, middle if possible. But I digress. It was two minutes til showtime. By the time the trailers rolled, three other solo movie goers joined me in this lonely theater and together, we watched a mediocre film. I really wanted to like THE FAMILY. I mean, it’s directed and co-written by Luc Besson who made one of my favorite films THE PROFESSIONAL. It’s executive produced by Martin Scorsese and Robert De Niro and Michelle Piefer star in it. It had the elements. Unfortunately, it didn’t have a story. Or anything really resembling one. Sigh.

I stayed to the end though and was even able to eat the rest of my food. Considering all four of us movie goers were seated far enough away from each other to pretend we had the place to ourselves, I took full advantage of it. In that sense, the experience was very comfortable. And the soundtrack was great.

Without waiting for the entire credits, I left the theater and walked out to the half-filled promenade. Passing a guitarist and singers, I breathed in the tepid fall air of this dry October Los Angeles night and thought about what a relaxing evening it was.

I thought to myself, “We should do this more often.”

Two Hikers

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If you can call us that.

This past weekend, my boyfriend and I went on a hike in the Malibu Hills. The one to the Grotto, at the Circle X Ranch. We were celebrating my birthday and headed out with the best intentions and two bags worth of a picnic. I held one bag, my boyfriend the other. He also graciously held our large water bottle too.

On the hike we went. It was a well-worn path and I think we both eased into the idea that this was going to be a simple, relaxing hike. He mentioned he thought a website said this was a beginner’s trail. We soon spotted a sign that read “Grotto Trail 1.3 miles” and an arrow pointing in the direction of it. Hmm.. so we weren’t exactly on the trail yet. Okay. No worries. We continued on. Passed a side road where at the end of it was one of those old phone-booths. The kind Superman used when he was changing from Clark Kent.

Soon, we came to a divide and proceeded toward the Grotto trail. The path grew smaller and headed into dense mountainside. It was pretty, though. As we continued on, deeper into the mountains, we passed a friendly group, who explained with somewhat vague directions, “when you come to the rocks, make a right at the smooth, flat one and then shimmy down between the boulders but you can use the tree branches to hold yourself…” Huh?? One member of the group was a rather large, elderly lady and so, I’ll admit that both my boyfriend and myself thought, which we later said out loud to each other, “Well, if she can do, I’ll have no problem.”

Onward we went. The path got more narrow, the sun blazed on our heads, the white shorts I so expertly planned to wear had gathered a thin layer of dirt on them and my boyfriend took pictures. Then, time started moving a little slower and sometime later, I found myself wanting to cry out, “Are we there yet?!” But we passed more people, got even vaguer directions (“At the big rock, stay right..”) and kept on.

And then we came to the rocks. Hallelujah! Or so I thought. All the directions we gathered along the way meant little to us though we did shimmy between rocks and stuck right at a large, smooth one. I, in fact, even swung from some branches and my still aching arms can prove it. And with some help by a young, cute couple, we finally made it to the grotto.

It was beautiful.

photo

But it was also full of bugs.

We tried to find somewhere to picnic, but it wasn’t happening. So we decided to have just a little snack before heading back up. My boyfriend took out the cheese and bread and made a yummy spread. This was, however, soon interrupted. Suddenly, he grabbed his plate very quickly and moved practically right on top of me. We were on a little ledge so there wasn’t a lot of wiggle room. I asked him what happened, and he said he saw a squirrel. I thought, “Geez, babe, it’s just a squirrel.” And then I said that out loud. He was standing really still. Than, he grabbed the bag and said, “Okay, it’s a rat. Let’s go!” We quickly grabbed our stuff and got the hell out of there, but not before a clueless group of friends asked me to take their picture.

With little more than a couple bites inside us, we decided it was time to head back up. The bugs were everywhere and the bags were getting heavy. As we walked, we started forming a list of things not to do when going on a hike of this nature – wear white, bring a picnic and not eat first. Neither myself or my boyfriend have ever really done a strenuous hike, if you couldn’t already tell that.

So, we climbed up, and up, and up, and up. The sun was about a trillion degrees, as was our water by this point, and shade was no where in sight. We both ate our words about how easy this was going to be, considering that lady could do it. (Love when stereotypes are defied!) And things such as “Babe, I need you to give my butt a big push when I say go” and “Let’s swing from that branch and land on that rock over there” came out of my mouth as I tried desperately to keep going. I should probably say for those who don’t know me well, I do not work out. I’m not a camping, outdoorsy type. When I’m outside, I like to lounge and relax. Not saying I’m proud of this, but it’s the truth and will help to explain why at this point in the hike, I kinda believed, I might actually die out here.

My boyfriend and I thought the end of the trail was coming about fifteen times too early. I couldn’t talk anymore. My only goal was to get back to my air-conditioned car at this point. My boyfriend painted the picture for me, of how nice it will be in just a few more moments. Few more moments, my ass. What seemed like a lifetime later, we finally made it to the car. My boyfriend went to the bathroom while I, using every last ounce of energy I had, pressed the door-open button on my remote, climbed into the passenger seat, and rested my head.

A most interesting mirror

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can be in the form of a wildly precocious three-year old nephew.

Last weekend, this young boy no taller than my mid-thigh, spent three full days and nights living with myself and my parents (his grandparents) and I think I may have learned more about myself in those three days than perhaps I had in quite a while. I was also shuffling some other things around in my mind so perhaps it was fate that this weekend occurred or maybe I just paid more attention than usual, but regardless, I had the most fascinating weekend.

You just never know.

Rather than bore you with extended details of the entire seventy-two hours, many of which I was nowhere near my nephew, I thought I’d just write, in the form of a script, a few of the reflections I saw in this mysterious and honest mirror.

SCRIPT

At a modern family home in Los Angeles, a NEPHEW (3) and his AUNT (35) hang out and chat on various occasions over a three-day period…

Nephew: Are you going out tonight?
Aunt: Yeah.
Nephew: Why?
Aunt: I’m hanging out with my boyfriend.
Nephew: Just tell me, are you going to a bar?

Nephew: Let’s play Auntie.
Aunt: Hang on, I’m finishing up something on my computer.
Nephew: I want to play.
Aunt: Hold on, I’ll be done soon.
Nephew: You’re on your computer a lot.

Nephew: Your office is kinda dirty.
Aunt: Well… I haven’t vacuumed it in a while.
Nephew: I’ll do it.

Aunt: I’m a little sad right now.
Nephew: Why Auntie?
Aunt: Just not feeling very pretty right now.
Nephew: You’re pretty in your sparkly shirt. But not this shirt.

Nephew: Get up!
Aunt: I’m still sleeping.
Nephew: Why do you want to sleep more?
Aunt: I like to sleep.

Nephew: Why can’t I say bad words?
Aunt: Because they are disrespectful.
Nephew: But everyone says bad words.
Aunt: Uh…

Aunt: Here sweetie, I made you eggs and bacon.
Nephew: Why are these scrambled eggs brown?
Aunt: They’re burned a bit.
Nephew: Oh.
Aunt: I’m not great at making eggs.

And one for the road, taken directly from being on the road…

Nephew: Wow, outside is going by quick.
Aunt: Oh. Oops. Auntie sometimes drives too fast.

A night at the restaurant

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As a filmmaker who is not able to fully support herself from just filmmaking, I work at two other jobs. I’m a reader for a production company and also a server at a bistro, where I work a few lunch shifts a week. But on occasion, I will work a dinner shift to help either my boss or another server and this past weekend, I did just that. One of the things I like about serving is that it offers a wonderful opportunity to people watch and observe human behavior. And that night, I noticed some things, perhaps more so than normal because I wasn’t used to the atmosphere, and I began making a mental list. I later thought, hell, I’ll share these in my blog. So…

Observations from a night at a restaurant:

1. I am not alone in talking with hands. A LOT of people do this.

2. Yes, stereotypes exist but cannot be applied across the board and it’s a wonderful thing to see them be proven wrong.

3. Wine is the drink of choice over dinner for many, red more than white.

4. Hungry people can be scary.

5. Food brings people together.

6. I’m incredibly fortunate to work at such a great restaurant, that actually has great owners who genuinely care about their employees and guests. With all the serving jobs I’ve had in my life, and I’ve had MANY, I can easily say that this one by far takes the prize as THE BEST.

7. It’s never good when one tries to be funny and they’re the only one laughing. Please do your server a favor and don’t put on a show for them. If you’re naturally funny, it will come out without trying so hard.

8. It’s lovely to see people truly enjoying each others company. It’s depressing to see people forcing it.

9. There’s an awesome energy after the last customer leaves for the night and the staff can let their hair down.

 

walk the talk

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I must admit. I did not become interested in politics and my country’s government until about three or so years ago, when I entered my thirties. I had voted in the major elections but other than that, I didn’t place it too high in my priorities.

Then, to the credit of my parents, I started becoming more interested in what was happening in America. I started to learn about the government, all sections, and the issues. I began to develop my own political philosophy by learning as much as I could. I read books, studied history, looked up the actions of those in power. I quickly realized that most, if not all, of television news and journalism had become heavily biased, so I dismissed them as a valid source soon into my journey, which yes, did make it much harder to find the truth, but the search was interesting and took me places I perhaps otherwise would not have gone and explored.

And then, it was time for the election of 2008. I had not been very involved in the build-up, the primaries and such, as my political enlightenment had just been forming. I did know, however, that I was not thrilled with Obama or McCain. And then Obama won.

I did not vote for Obama. Yes, his beliefs are vastly different from my own, but it was more than that. He seemed empty. A solid orator but an inexperienced individual who was all talk. I know he had great support and the people voted him in office, so I accepted him as my president, but I wasn’t happy about it.

But now, election 2012 is on the horizon and I made the decision to become dedicated to being part of this process of the government of my country. I researched all those who are presidential contenders and in my search, I found the one I was looking for.

Ron Paul.

His actions over the past fifty or more years have PROVEN he is honest, a man of true conviction, consistent, a believer in the Constitution, freedom and liberty and someone who could not be bought or manipulated by the big government/big business political machine. He walks the talk. And so, I decided, I must too. If I was going to have an informed opinion and a solid political philosophy, then I couldn’t just talk about it, or I’d be a contradiction of my own beliefs and no better than those who I condemn.

I dedicated myself to helping put Ron Paul in the white house. I hope he wins the GOP nomination and then the 2012 Presidential Election but even if he doesn’t, I will know that I tried my hardest to put him there and didn’t just talk about it.

This past weekend, I attended the Republican Liberty Caucus of California in Downtown, Los Angeles. I cheered Ron Paul on, voted in the straw poll, heard him give the keynote speech, and became an even greater supporter of his, if that was possible. Some in the media have tried to paint this convention as one in which Ron Paul “bussed” us in but that is not the case. I was at the convention yesterday, I voted in the straw poll, I was there with seven other friends, and I came by my own volition. Allow me to assure you that Ron Paul did not bring us “in busloads”. I was there because I support him and want him to be our next president. His supporters were people from all over, who are truly devoted to him. There were Perry supporters there but Paul supporters outnumbered them greatly. I did not see anyone else there supporting the other contenders. It was a great day and evidence of the support Ron Paul has. The energy was amazing.

I walked the talk. And it feels unbelievable.

You know you’re from LA when…

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I was in my car today for a long time. And anyone who knows LA traffic knows that Friday afternoons on the 405 can be brutal. Needless to say, I had a lot of time on my hands while driving and I started thinking about the fact that many people aren’t really from here or haven’t been here long. (Yea, driving can really make you realize this.) But hell, I’ve lived in LA almost twenty years but was born on the east coast and grew up there until I was ten, so technically, I’m not from here either. Nonetheless, twenty years is a long time and I feel I’m qualified to speak on being from LA. So, while I was driving, I remembered that comedian who did a bit about “you might be a redneck if…” and I thought I’d make one about LA. So…

You know you’re from LA when…

a celebrity is in back of you in line at Starbucks and all you care about is getting your coffee first.

when there’s traffic, you hope there was accident on the freeway so you can pass it and get back to going eighty miles an hour. (I’m going to hell for this one.)

sigalert means something to you.

you don’t expect to be “discovered” like Marilyn Monroe.

you know smog makes great sunsets.

you expect the weather to be sunny and perfect ninety percent of the year.

you realize earthquakes are a part of life.

and finally, you know you’re from LA when…

you don’t use the term “Cali”.

To date or not to date

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That is the question.

I have an amazing father. Smart, respectful, honest and kind. And though I am eternally grateful for him, he has set the bar very high for any guy I could possibly conceive to be with. One would think these traits aren’t THAT hard to come by, and perhaps it’s because I live in LA, but wow. Yeah. These traits are far and few in between and then add that to meeting someone I’m attracted to and whew! We just deleted close to 100% of the men I meet.

Granted, when I was younger, I set the bar much lower. RIP to my ex-boyfriend who has actually not passed away but in all due respect, has passed away in my mind. Is that morbid? I hope not. It’s illustrative. And then, when I got older and moved back to my lovely town of LA, which I actually adore but is not really set up for dating for those of us who like honest relationships, I partook in some innocent and fun flings. But now that I’m getting to the point where I’d rather not get a drink with you but actually work on my career unless it’s going to be worth my time, I’m trying hard not to become cynical. Or make a romantic comedy about it.

Anyway, I digress. As I was driving home tonight, I had a thought while I was listening to Eminem, who mind you is actually quite intelligent and poetic. Sure, maybe not the best to listen to as one is thinking about dating, late after a night out, but still, he’s honest and raw which is more than I can say for most people. And he made me think, and I like that. Lately, people have been asking me about dating. Am I dating someone? Who? Why not? And not that I feel on the spot, but I realize it’s valid for them to ask considering I’m 33 and have not really made dating a priority in the past several years. And when I do consider it, I seem to like those who are completely wrong for me…

Sometimes I wonder, is dating worth it if it’s not what is one’s top priority? It’s an issue I’ve grappled with for quite a while. As all my friends start to get married, I find myself caring more about my film getting finance than meeting a guy to go out with. Is dating in LA the problem or is it me? Is it because I’m a filmmaker trying to succeed in this crazy business, as are three-quarters of the men I meet, who seem to mostly talk about filmmaking rather than do it so relationships with them are mostly out of the question or do I not care enough about dating? I see my friends who bend over backwards to make the guys or girls in their life happy and I wonder, should it be that hard? Is love something we need to work at or is it something that happens naturally when it’s with the right one? And rather than give a shit about the guy who doesn’t call you or the girl who doesn’t return your text, why not just move on and live your life until the right one comes along? Is it so wrong to just be and if it happens, it happens. And if it doesn’t, it doesn’t? I don’t know… but I seem to be moving farther and farther away from caring about cool guys since there are so few. Not asking for pity but just calling a spade a spade.

Honestly, I just want to make my films. Period. I normally keep my head down, or in a book, but sometimes, one will get me out of my hole and I’ll ponder this all over again…

So ladies and gentlemen, I’ll leave you with this thought – do you want to be with just anyone or is it best to just find the thing that makes you happy and go after that and then, if love happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t…

Am I cynical or the voice of reason? You decide for yourself…

Electricity

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Yes, I am one of those people who loves LA. And yes, it is full of phoniness, celebrities and the paparazzi that follow them and facades every which way you turn. BUT, and this is a big but, it’s also a city filled with dreams, hope and endless opportunity. Not only is it a culture swirl, but it’s the land where fantasy meets reality, not to mention the weather is insanely fantastic.

This past weekend, I went to see a show at the Hollywood Bowl that I’ve been dying to see since I found out about it. Two of my favorite bands – Hot Chip and LCD Soundsystem – were not only playing together but were playing together at a beautiful outdoor venue. In LA.

Meeting up with some friends, who I had sooo much fun with, we took the party bus from Westwood to the Bowl, barely catching the last one but managing to make it, though some pedestrians may be cursing me… On it, I sat alone since we were a group of five with seats being in twos, and then a cute and interesting boy sat next to me, making the ride feel like a second long even though the bus was caught in traffic on the 101. Sure, this could happen anywhere, not just in LA, but the backdrop of the Hollywood Hills and the diversity of the bus passengers made it all the more enjoyable.

Then, came the show. Unable to sit with the four friends I went with, because I bought my ticket separate of them, I headed to my box in the Terrace section, glass of wine in hand as the opening band, Sleigh Bells, rocked out. And there, I met the five people who were my box mates for the evening. Unbelievably cool. By the end of the concert, we had become friends. If you don’t know, the bowl is an outside concert venue in the Hollywood hills, beautiful at sunset and lustrous at dark. Hot Chip performed to an excited and dancing crowd and though they sound a bit better on CD then they do live, it was still complete fun dancing around the box to songs I’ve listened to a thousand times as a talented band performed on stage.

And then came a break. SO MANY PEOPLE. Got a quick glass of wine and just happened to make it back to my seat right as LCD Soundsystem took the stage. One of the guys in my box thought I wasn’t coming back to them and I was thrilled to see they seemed cool with me being there. At one point during the show, one of the guys turned to me and in so many words said he thought it was cool I was able to come to this box alone and then be dancing and having fun with them. It didn’t seem like such a big deal to me but then, I guess some people haven’t tapped into the beauty that is adventuring out alone…

LCD was amazing. Sounds even better live and the energy of the crowd was electrifying. It seemed like this group of strangers and friends all came together to enjoy the pulsating beats and intelligent lyrics of James Murphy and his team. I believe it was the guitarist of Hot Chip who also played with LCD that night, which I thought was so perfect, in how it fused two of my favorite bands together. This is a show I will not forget. Here I was, apart from my friends yet having a great time, in a venue tucked into the Hollywood Hills, surrounded by a diverse and rousing crowd. It was intoxicating. Better than any drug.

Still on the music high, my friends and I somehow ended up in a limo with their friends of friends and we headed out to a bar. As we exited the limo, I looked down and saw I was standing on John Lennon’s star. It couldn’t have been any more appropriate. John Lennon is one of my favorite people, of all time. The bar was red and dark and fun to have drinks with the people I came with. Got to know some new cool people also, which is always enjoyable. Except for a guy who decided to spill his drink on me when I wouldn’t talk to him, but hell, that immaturity isn’t going to ruin my fun. My amazing friend didn’t want him to get away with it but her sweet husband quickly grabbed her as we were leaving, to stop her from getting into anything with this obvious juvenile.

And back to our cars we went. Awesome night. Awesome friends. Awesome music. And an awesome cute boy on the bus.

Only in LA. The rainy mist in the air at the bowl in the hills off the legendary Hollywood Blvd, the John Lennon star under my feet, the random mix of artists and strangers in the crowd and perhaps most importantly…

The energy that is Los Angeles permeating the air.

Cohesion

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Having lived in Los Angeles for over eighteen years, I’d say I’m qualified to speak about this city. And one thing I’ve noticed all these years is that there lacks a connection among those who live here. Granted, this is largely a transplant metropolis, meaning the majority of dwellers were not born here, raised here or even have been here for long periods of time, so their loyalty often lies to another city. And this being a mecca for those interested in film and television and of course, home of the legendary Hollywood, many come to Los Angeles with big dreams and even bigger problems. So I would argue many of the cityfolk feel little bond with this city, and in fact, may even come to hate it because it didn’t offer everything they had expected or wanted it to. This city gets a hard rap, often undeserved.

Though I’ve lived in Los Angeles the majority of my life, I had the benefit of growing up on the east coast, in Buffalo, New York. And from birth until I was ten years old, I lived in a place that was quite united. During the 1980s, I remember this city was consumed by the Buffalo Bills. Have you seen Vincent Gallo’s film, “Buffalo ’66”? Well, he nails this feeling. And yes, the Bills never won the Superbowl, but they did go to it four years in a row. See, even I, who couldn’t care any less about football, will defend this team until I’m blue in the face because gosh darn it, they have heart. And they had support of an upstate New York city who I would argue often cared more about them than they did themselves. My dad often took me to these games and I had a great time. But my point is, this city rallied around their football team. They shared this common bond and it was strong. Perhaps it still is, I don’t know, because I haven’t lived there in many years, but I distinctly remember the fellowship, the bond, the connection that permeated there throughout my childhood. And it felt good. It felt real. It felt like we weren’t all just strangers.

I can’t remember feeling this way about Los Angeles, except for when the very destructive earthquake happened in Northridge in the 1990s. But this week, I’ve noticed cars with Lakers flags on them. And while my first thought was that they were annoying, I immediately changed my tune when I kept seeing them and they conjured up a feeling I had when I was a kid. I started noticing people walking around in the colors of the team and wearing Lakers jerseys. It gave me a feeling of a city united. And it’s been great.

Yes, I think it’s important that we march to the beat of our own drums, but sometimes, it’s nice to be a part of a large band.

Meditations on Living in Los Angeles

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I’ve been reading “Meditations” by Marcus Aurelius and have been thoroughly enjoying it. Some of the meditations I agree with, some I don’t, some have made me think, some have made me disagree but overall, it’s been a worthwhile and thought-provoking book translated from the work of a philosopher & Roman Emperor who wrote and lived from AD 121 -180.

And while reading this, I decided to write some meditations on living in Los Angeles. As a fan of this great city, one who has lived here on and off for a total of eighteen years, I feel I am qualified to do so…

MEDITATIONS ON LIVING IN LOS ANGELES

1.  See past the illusion to find great beauty.

2. Welcome the sun and clear sky, for it is plentiful and will also induce a calmer mind if one allows it.

3. Take heed of the traffic, it will be your greatest enemy. Learn the city streets, the pattern of lights and stop signs and only use your signal right before you make a lane change, otherwise you’re just asking for the other car to speed up, which they will most likely do.

4. Beware of restaurants under the rating of A. Yes, it could only be structural problems but do you really want your stomach to take that chance?

5. Allow for all walks of life. This city is a melting pot of cultures and receives those willing to pay higher rents than most other cities in America with open arms.

6. Dreams are made and shattered here. Know that simply coming to Los Angeles does not actually end the work needed in order to achieve the dream of landing an incredibly competitive job. This may be a wonderful starting point but do not let delusion cloud your understanding that only 5% of the American population ever actually achieve these jobs.* That said, never forget YOU may be part of that 5%**.

* Statistic is not verified but rather made up to illustrate the point that many dreamers do not achieve the end employment they seek when first arriving here.
** Statistic is not verified but rather made up to illustrate the point that it is possible to achieve an incredibly competitive job but that it is very, very, very difficult to do, unless #7 happens.

7. Luck may be around the corner. In this city, one can become a celebrity over night. One can be discovered, make a million or just happen to be in the right place at the right time. And while this may be true in other cities, it is much less rare in Los Angeles.

8. Movies are plentiful. You are blessed with limited releases, independent theaters and an abundance of film festivals year round so it would be a shame if you didn’t go often. A damn shame.

9. Remember the celebrities you see throughout the city, from at the drug store to the local Starbucks, are people just like you and I.

10. Beware of parking meter attendants. They can smell an almost empty meter from a mile away and will ticket you before you can blink.

11. Take time to stop and ponder this: you have mountains, ocean and desert all nearby. Nature has smiled on this city and its beauty is all around should one be looking for it.

And some taken directly from “Meditations” by Marcus Aurelius, that I thought are Los Angeles appropriate:

“Do not copy the opinions of the arrogant, or let them dictate your own, but look at things in their true light.”

“Think of the totality of all Being, and what a mite of it is yours; think of all Time, and the brief fleeting instant of it that is allotted to yourself; think of Destiny, and how puny a part of it you are. ”

“To refrain from imitation is the best revenge.”