Happiness is something that lives inside each of us, but not all the people are able to feel it.

utorak, 16.11.2010.

We were in the open concourse where the turnstiles were. It was hardly any better here -- the enclosed space sent the voices around us echoing back in a roar that made my head ring, and the smell and feeling of all those bodies made me feel a claustrophobia I'd never known I was prone to.
The true mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.
Never feel self-pity, the most destructive emotion there is. How awful to be caught up in the terrible squirrel cage of self.
There is only one thing a philosopher can be relied upon to do, and that is to contradict other philosophers.
Nothing is particularly hard if you divide it into small jobs.
I like coincidences. They make me wonder about destiny, and whether free will is an illusion or just a matter of perspective. They let me speculate on the idea of some master plan that, from time to time, we're allowed to see out of the corner of our eye.
Maybe they were terrorists!

16.11.2010. u 07:50 • 0 Komentara • Print • #

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