Grandma always said, 'This too shall pass.' I think of this at three am when the cat is kneading the spare pillow on my bed. If I was to die tonight I think I would like to come back as whiskey. Just as strong and just as necessary.
Potent, yet oozes of strength and class, the way Grandma was. Though if I came back as a cat, that would be just as good, cute and cunning and limber, no matter how far they fall they always land on their feet, sounds ideal.
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