I do not play by fortuitous means. I plan and prepare and then play my hand.
To be known for anything, but my mind would be a catastrophic legacy, in my mind.
To know of All must be so wonderful.
To imagine is oh so better than to know, yet too, so very inferior.
If one is born to be great, the only way to know, is by the belief of one’s own greatness.
We built a world so noisy that we’ve begun to miss true magnificence.
We will never stop having things to know.
Wouldn’t it just be a wondrous thing if our universe within another universe…oh, how insignificant we are.
Be, He will, what all need him be.
All we truly have of anything are the memories we make.
No different from others of my age am I for I feel the pressures of the age in which I live: that of attraction, wealth and popularity.
To stay atop of these such feats is one brave and endless yet rewardless task indeed.
Why must we all, including myself, aspire to be all we are not?
To not do this without conscious effort would be very hard I imagine.
I have never felt the urge to do so as I feel defying the inevitable is a progressionless and disappointing merry-go-round of misery.
If it is part of the human condition to give importance to that which surrounds us, understandable it is so that we do not see the true picture of clarity.
To unlock the greatest mysteries we must accept that we are nothing and all that we do know is relative to the size of The Earth in the universes.
Nothing is more dangerous than contentment without progression.
He is all to all and The Philosophy is all to all.
This world is all subjectivity.
