Richard Wilson

“I’m good for about thirty bucks,” I said. “Then I’ll have to get a refill from petty cash.”

“There’s nothing petty about cash,” Stew said.

“I’ve made my choice, Sam,” she had written. “I had to choose between what I wanted and what I could get. There are times when the ideal is just too unattainable and when the second best becomes, in the long run, the best. Maybe this also has a universal application. I hope so.”

We’ll jump off that bridge when we come to it.