When he looks at me, the way he looks at me...he does not know what I lack...Or how...I am incomplete. He sees me...for what I am...as I am. He's happy...to see me, every time...every day.
"Unable to perceive the shape of You.
I find You all around me.
Your presence fills my eyes with Your love.
It humbles my heart.
For You are everywhere."
Man is as silent as a grave. But if farts were flattery...honey, he'd be Shakespeare.
Short people are mean. I never met a short man that stayed nice all the way through. No, sir. Mean little backstabbers, all of them. Maybe it's the air down there, not enough oxygen or something.
I don't know what happened to me. I don't know. I look in the mirror and the only thing that I recognize are these eyes...in this old man's face.You know, sometimes I think I was either born too early or too late for my life. Maybe we're both just relics.
We sell it, but it's an export. We sell it, because we don't use it.