Perhaps enough has been said about agreement.
Entire conversations, like trees, have grown and bloomed, while adversaries circle each other, round-and-round the trunks, until
Autumn's fury flares. Each one crows and squawks about the merits of his own ideas as they trample the bright, crisp
Carpet into dun-toned dust. Neither is willing to give; both are too happy to take. Mere agreement is, finally, insufficient.
(c) 2014, by Hannah Six