Sometimes we are unaware of what we have written.
Our words always become ghosts to us and they haunt us in the quiet moments if we are not cogent of their power to harm when we create meaning by solidifying thoughts into form and placing words against each other for context.
Pens are mightier than swords only because they have a sharper point.
The blade is temporary, the concept that created its edge is eternal.
Ideas cannot be defeated; minds are soluble.
I do, however, own them all — even when I disagree with what I thought I knew.