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.