“What does the fisherman do when all the fish are gone?
Does he cast his line for the nth time wishing for one more bite?
Does he leave the watery lover he’s known all his life?
Does he beg and cry to god for some miracle?
Or does he slump at the bow of his boat, watching the sunset, knowing that he was the author of his own fate.”
Does he cast his line for the nth time wishing for one more bite?
Does he leave the watery lover he’s known all his life?
Does he beg and cry to god for some miracle?
Or does he slump at the bow of his boat, watching the sunset, knowing that he was the author of his own fate.”
There’s such a thing as winning too much. There’s a point where you can become so good at a game that your opponent doesn’t see a reason to go against you. Some may see the point where you have gained complete superiority over your opponent as the ultimate win, but I beg to differ.
