People are hard to be understand, full of lies, full of corupt, if you want a friendship with them is like to have a friendship with nothing. But nothing isn’t a possibility of the ability, people you can go 40….50 years studying them and what you will find is that you are old and they are new and more and more stupid. I find somebody who can I trust, it’s my computer who else???
It’s too clever, I need to hang out with clever people not with idiots!

There is no indication that God explained to Joseph what He was doing through those many years of heartache or how the pieces would eventually fit together. He had no ways of knowing that he would eventually enjoy a triumphal reunion with his family. He was expected, as you and I are, to live out his life one day at a time in something less than complete understanding. What pleased God was Joseph’s faithfulness when nothing made sense.

People a lot of times say that they live one life, say that we all live one… no you are in mistake so far
I can say that 10 games I have played in which I have died and reborn, then 197 books I have read, 6 more are waiting to be finished, 197 books = 197 lifes, so far!
407 films = 407 lifes so far 197 + 407 equal 604… Every dramatical moment in which you have survive like car crash or others such type are equal +1 life… so far it looks like I have lived a lot of. Every Year in the tree branch with the branch…

The Imperial Senate, ever conscious of the weight of public opinion resting on the tip of the pencil come voting day, wanted to be fair and just – or at least appear that way. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, there was little love lost between Imperial troops and the locals who viewed each other with little short of open hostility, and often through the sighting devices attached to weaponry of various diverse descriptions.

18. Your life is before you. Be careful of the choices you make now that you could regret later. This regret is the subject of an old poem whose author has been forgotten. I hope you’ll never have reason to apply it to yourself.

Across the fields of yesterday,
He sometimes comes to me
A little lad just back from play-
The boy I used to be.
He looks at me so wistfully
When once he’s crept within;
It is as if he hoped to see
The man I might have been.

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