Twenty-five years ago
my friend Richard Exley read me some words I've ever forgotten. Here they are:

If I had my life to live over, I’d try to make more mistakes next time. I would relax. I would limber up. I would be sillier than I have been on this trip. I would be crazier. I would be less hygienic. I would take more chances. I would take more trips. I would climb more mountains, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets.

I would eat more ice cream and less beans.

I would have more real troubles and fewer imaginary ones. You see, I am one of these people who lives prophylactically and sensibly and sanely, hour after hour, day after day.

Oh, I have had my moments and, if I had it to do over again, I’d have more of them. In fact, I’d try to have nothing else – just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead each day.

I have been one of those people who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot water bottle, a gargle, a raincoat and a parachute.

If I had it to do over again, I would go and do and travel lighter.

If I had my life to live over, I would start barefooted earlier in the spring and stay that way until later in the fall. I would play hooky more. I would ride on more merry-go-rounds.

I’d pick more daisies.

These words have been attributed to Nadine Stair, Don Herold, an unnamed monk and countless other authors. The only person I’m sure didn’t write them is me.
– Roy H. Williams