“Those who profess to favor freedom, and yet depreciate agitation, are men who want crops without plowing up the ground. They want rain without thunder and lightning. They want the ocean without the powerful roar of its many waters.”

I’ve grown accustomed to your long goodbye.

Things don’t get solved for nothing and things don’t get better from sitting around.
Nothing's going to get better until you pick up and start.
All words mean less, the more you hear—nothing goes away with more time.