Our truest life is when we are in dreams awake.
If you took a trip back to 1920s-era Brunswick, things probably wouldn’t look all that different. Sure, you’d have to contend with the loud honk of the tin lizzies driving around—not to mention the clanging of streetcars motoring up and down Maine Street—but at the most superficial level, the Brunswick before you is fairly similar to the town you know today.
Down on the street, however, things would not be so familiar: if you decided to walk down to Cabot Mill, not only would you find the place working optimally, you would also have strolled right into the heart of Brunswick’s now-forgotten French quarter.
Only kings who go into battle fall off their horses
If you wait to do everything until you’re sure it’s right, you’ll probably never do much of anything.