A piece of art comes to life, when we can feel, it is breathing, when it talks to us and starts raising questions. It may dispel biased perceptions; make us recognize ignored fragments and remember forsaken episodes of our life story. Art may sometimes even be nasty and disturbing, if we don’t want to consent to its philosophy or concept, but it might, in the end, perhaps reconcile us with ourselves. (When is Art?)
Smartass Disciple: Master, what are you talking about? None of us understand!Master of Stupidity: Be patient! It is not ended yet. The end justifies the means.
It is more important to go slow and gain the lessons you need along the journey then to rush the process and arrive at your destination empty.
Many politicians are tantalizing storytellers, as they mix facts with fiction, grab our emotion and tell things, they want us to believe. Their factoids are unremittingly reiterated, take a life on their own and in the end become the very truth… until the bubble bursts.(What after bowling alone? )
Be lost. Give up. Give In. in the end It would be better to surrender before you begin. be lost. Be lost And then you will not care if you are ever found.
(It starts with)One thing, I don’t know whyIt doesn’t even matter how hard you tryKeep that in mind, I designed this rhymeTo explain in due timeAll I knowtime is a valuable thingWatch it fly by as the pendulum swingsWatch it count down to the end of the dayThe clock ticks life awayIt’s so unrealDidn’t look out belowWatch the time go right out the windowTrying to hold on but didn’t even knowWasted it all just toWatch you goI kept everything inside and even though I tried, it all fell apartWhat it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when I tried so hardAnd got so farBut in the endIt doesn't even matterI had to fallTo lose it allBut in the endIt doesn't even matter