I’m ninety-four years old, and the older I get, the less I know. I mean that in a good way. Seems most of the trouble in this world stems from the things we’re so sure we know. Now that I’m old enough and experienced enough to know I know nothing, the world is a constant, pleasant surprise, and the things I allow life to bring me are consistently better than anything I might have sought—or even imagined—for myself.
