Totus mundus agit histrionem. (All the World's a Stage.)"[Motto of William Shakespeare's Globe Theatre (f. 1599) and its acting company, The King's Men; taken from the first play to be performed on the new stage.]

Seems like the world is spinning smooth without a bump or squeak except when love comes in. Then the whole machine just quits like a loud load of wash on imbalance--the buzzer singing to high heave, the danger light flashing.

ما لك تدهش في عالم ليس فيه إلا كل ما يدهش

I mean, reality sucks. The world is a cancer, and shits so bad it’s scary. Everything’s filthy. But you know what? One day, it’s not going to be here. So be glad you know what life is. You’re alive. Live.

Regardless of what comes and goes on the stage, the stage is always just there. The people of the world are all actors, but if they own the stage, they become the masters. As masters, they will always be able to act on the stage.

Gern hätte er Europa jetzt aus der internationalen Weltraumstation ISS gesehen. Wo sonst die feinen Adern und leuchtenden Knoten des Lichtsystems bis ins All strahlten, musste über weiten Flächen Dunkelheit liegen.

Life is ironic. Some people use their terrible childhood as an excuse of their unfortunate rest of the life… while others create a masterpiece out of their terrible childhood, they create a story loved by the entire world.

I had a dream about you. We were in a bubble of love, shielded from a hateful world. This bubble bounced like a clear rubber ball, and we were able to compete in dodge ball tournaments—not as players, but as equipment.


She looked out the window; in her eyes was the light that you see only in children arriving at a new place, or in young people still open to new influences, still curious about the world because they have not yet been scarred by life.

Think for yourselves for a change. You've been pedlars: go and be merchants. You've been mercenaries: go and find something of your own to defend. You've finished teething and there's the world: crack it open if you can.

So there are countless reasons to remain on this Godforsaken planet that was long considered the only world, if for no other reason than to learn the end of our story: what the author of our lives has not yet taken the trouble to finish.

Sometimes people need reasons for things, even when there are no reasons. That's what makes people believe in conspiracies or religions - if there is any difference. The world is just too complicated, so they need simple explanations.

The idea of a belt holding my pants up seems so 20th century. Imagine a world where your pants are held high by your self-esteem. But it’s a silly notion, really, because in a world such as that, nobody would even wear pants.


Beyond the edge of the world there’s a space where emptiness and substance neatly overlap, where past and future form a continuous, endless loop. And, hovering about, there are signs no one has ever read, chords no one has ever heard.

Tunazaliwa na kufa. Lakini hatujui tunakotoka. Wala hatujui tunakokwenda. Huenda tunatoka na kwenda katika dunia nyingine, ya ulimwengu mwingine, hivyo kutufanya wageni wa dunia yetu wenyewe. Acha dunia katika hali nzuri kuliko ulivyoikuta.