Pascal spots something the merely sentimental miss: kindness operates by a peculiar economy where the poorest among us hold the greatest wealth. Most people assume they lack the resources to help—money, time, expertise—yet a genuine compliment to the tired barista or a note to someone grieving costs nearly nothing and may alter the trajectory of their day. The real sting of this observation isn't that kindness is cheap, but that our stinginess with words betrays not scarcity but negligence; we walk past opportunities for grace as if they were beneath our notice. It's the sort of truth that makes us uncomfortable precisely because the barrier to goodness turns out to be indifference, not circumstance.