Someday, you are going to die. Sorry.
You will most likely never be elected President of the United States. This is undoubtedly, for all concerned, a good thing.
If there is life on other planets, it will probably not be contacting you directly. So you will never get a related book deal. Again, sorry.
If there is a God, you’d better hope that, in your case and mine, this God is willing to overlook just about everything.
You will never win the Nobel Peace Prize, so I hope that you haven’t been counting on it, or telling your friends, “This is my year, I can feel it.”
You will never have hair that will be universally termed “lustrous.”
If you discover the secret of happiness, you’d better write it down on the back of an envelope, because otherwise you will never remember it, which will drive you crazy.
