In the most personal passage of his speech, Youshaei reflected on what he would actually remember from four years of high school. He couldn't recall the distance formula for the vertical component of a moving projectile, but he could tell you about the time his friend tipped a cab driver 37 cents on a Model UN trip to Boston. He couldn't remember his thesis on 'The Over-Soul,' but he could tell you how his class came together on that silent Monday after homecoming sophomore year. This honest accounting of what stays with us — the relationships, the shared moments, the small acts of connection — led to his argument that the seemingly small things are actually the most important things. The songs sung on the bus ride home, the hallway greetings, the car-ride conversations: these are what we carry with us. It was a fitting conclusion for a speech that had begun by urging his classmates to stop living on autopilot and start investing in the present moment.