twenty-seven years and one million words
I went to an interview today with an outfit that needs to augment their consulting business. It seems that business is fleeing the downtown core, and that the jobs are no closer than Yonge/Sheppard or out in Markham or Miserysauga.
If I wind up working in the latter, I guess I'll have to get a car. Perhaps this one.
Meaning is not something you stumble across, like the answer to a riddle or the prize in a treasure hunt. Meaning is something you build into your life. You build it out of your own past, out of your affections and loyalties, out of the experience of humankind as it is passed on to you, out of your own talent and understanding, out of the things you believe in, out of the things and people you love, out of the values for which you are willing to sacrifice something. The ingredients are there. You are the only one who can put them together into that unique pattern that will be your life. Let it be a life that has dignity and meaning for you. If it does, then the particular balance of success or failure is of less account.
—John Gardner