The thing you love and made your identity was always the cruft middleman of getting from one place to another. People were sad when we moved from horses to car

The thing you love and made your identity was always the cruft middleman of getting from one place to another. People were sad when we moved from horses to cars; they loved their horses, they named them. That didn't stop the slow, glacial, detached march of the calendar, of progress, and in this example, of the wheel.