Change comes from dedicated, ordinary people, in the trenches, serving a cause greater than self.

How many people will change routes? How many people will flex hours? How many people will telecommute? Carpool? Etc. This is a challenge. People do want answers now, but we don't have them.

He hangs on now, pressing his hand lightly against the wall, below the window, waiting for the familiar arrow of pain. Only there is none. An oddly pleasant swell of memory, a wave of warmth flooding over him, sliding back, slowly. It is a first

I just say skip the middle person. I'm the one that's going to make the change.

You don’t need to worry if people call you ordinary -- only if you are ordinary.

Depending on the reality one must face, one may prefer to opt for illusion.