One is a sum.
The wise know that the few matter.
Many are plenty, the right one nearly twenty.
Large awes; small thaws.
Ever few close many far.
Small may outplay all.
Small packs stacks.
Within love’s sweet ambit, small is all and bam is bit.
Small numbers; great wonders.
Strength in the residuals, beauty in vestigials.
A crowd is a brag; a few friends — greatly satisfying.
What can be held in the hands trumps the wealth of nations.