Some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone.
I find I'm so excited, I can barely sit still or hold a thought in my head. I think it's the excitement only a free man can feel, a free man at the start of a long journey whose conclusion is uncertain.
Son, six wardens have been through here in my tenure, and I've learned one immutable, universal truth: Not one of them born whose asshole wouldn't pucker up tighter than a snare drum when you ask them for funds.