Calvin: Know what I pray for? Hobbes: What? Calvin: The strength to change what I can, the inability to accept what I can’t, and the incapacity to tell the difference.
In a culture that relentlessly promotes avarice and excess as the good life, a person happy doing his own work is usually considered an eccentric, if not a subversive.
Calvin: Look, a dead bird! Hobbes: It must’ve hit a window. Calvin: Isn’t it beautiful? It’s so delicate. Sighhh… once it’s too late, you appreciate what a miracle life is.
Isn’t it sad how some people’s grip on their lives is so precarious that they’ll embrace any preposterous delusion rather than face an occasional bleak truth?
