i can never read all the books i want; i can never be all the people i want and live all the lives i want. i can never train myself in all the skills i want. and why do i want? i want to live and feel all the shades, tones, and variations of mental and physical experience possible in my life. and i am horribly limited. yet i am not a cretin: lame, blind and stupid. i am not a veteran, passing my legless, armless days in a wheelchair. i am not that mongoloidish old man shuffling out of the gates of the mental hospital. i have much to live for.