We know we have crossed over into maturity when we stop fighting with the people crossing with us.

Progress — it’s finding your people.

A gap in time is a road sign.

The good life has some pool rules: “No running, children; no diving, fools.”

A wise life is like an expensive wine — it’s waits.

The wise know their limits; the mature know when to move beyond them.

Maturity exists in knowing who to choose — and who to run like hell from.

No sea crossings are a match; no lives come from the same batch.

Lonely spaces lie between our origins and our destinations.

Finding our mate is the end; losing our mate is the beginning.

 

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