Dozens of yellow sticky notes plaster the inside of George Miller’s cabinet door—random reflections, poems, an appeal to resolve some long-forgotten domestic squabble. A more recent note stuck on top of several others reads, “I love you. Let’s be happy. I can’t stand all the gloom.” Others read, “Compassion is a dull double-edged sword that doesn’t cut you or kill you—it just beats you to death,” and, “If there is a judge, you are it.”