The stillness, as a Chinese jar still
Moves perpetually in its stillness
T.S. Elliot
(This is a tiny part of the poem they forbade me from taking as a souvenir. Only my version was crazily annotated.)

I like to think I dazzled the interviewers with my shiny nervous exuberance and my icy cold handshake, firm against the odds.The snootiest [...]