Screaming at Weeds Doesn't Make Them Disappear
It's as if our ancestors have been toiling away, trying to get rid of weeds in the yard and we woke up to more weeds and threw up our arms, fell to our knees (all set to strains of Barber's Adagio for Strings in G minor) and screamed "But WHYYYYYY?" when we saw that more weeds had sprouted up overnight.
...that the cruel joke is that prisons and cliffs share the same architecture: an edge you’re afraid to cross. The only way to learn which one you’re standing on is to step forward and trust gravity to reveal the truth.