There is a particular beauty in code that does nothing superfluous. Every line exists for a reason. No useless comments, no premature abstractions, no variable named `temp2`.

Good code reads like good prose: it flows. You read it effortlessly, you understand the intent without searching for it. It is a silent dialogue between the one who writes and the one who will read — perhaps yourself, six months later.

Writing simple code is hard. It requires resisting the urge to be clever, to show off some pattern or trick. Simplicity is an active choice, not a lack of ambition.

The best programs I have read shared this rare quality: silence. No excess, no noise. Just the essential, placed there with care.