I should soldier on.
At my age, I would expect that my force of associates would dwindle. But to just turn arounnd and say
oh, well
that’s the way things go so take the next step
and the one after that
and after that and so on
And remember always Yests
It’s always important to remember that
Irish bard
Now that all the truth is out,
Be secret and take defeat
From any brazen throat,
For how can you compete,
Being honor bred, with one
Who were it proved he lies
Were neither shamed in his own
Nor in his neighbors’ eyes;
Bred to a harder thing
Than Triumph, turn away
And like a laughing string
Whereon mad fingers play
Amid a place of stone,
Be secret and exult,
Because of all things known
That is most difficult.
“Bred to a harder thing than triumph”
But was i?
If I have to ask, maybe not.
How many of us have so many friends that we can afford to shuffle off a few here and there and still feel well-supplied? I don’t know the answer to that.
Does anyone?
Does anyone want an answer? No it’s the wrong question, you see. The question is not how many of us?
The question is how many have I?
I could try counting, I suppose, but to what purpose?
