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If I cannot move heaven, I will raise hell. —VIRGIL
He wished he didn’t know what he had lost. Maybe then every day wouldn’t feel like this. As if he had once known how to fly, but the skies had shaken him loose and left him with nothing but the memory of wings.
Zofia didn’t look up from her tea. “I am personally undecided, but if we’re assessing based on objectivity, then according to the principles of the golden ratio, also known as phi, which is approximately 1.618, your facial beauty is mathematically pleasing.”
“Half of winning, my dear wallet, is simply looking victorious.”
Don’t capture their hearts. Steal their imagination. It’s far more useful.
