Life, with its rules, its obligations, and its freedoms, is like a sonnet: You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself
𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝, 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐡, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭.