What we call life is only talk of nature.

we must bringour own lightto thedarkness.

We need knew knights, but without swords.

I recreate myself; that is my only power.

In the end, the world returns to a grain.

All those big words produce disgust today.

Universe is the Sun watching its own self.

They are both spectacular, Life and death.

In every sound, the hidden silence sleeps.

From everything, nothing looks to nothing.

When all is lost, there is still a memory.

Dust to dust, ashes to ashes. Is that all?

They grew; they did not talk about growing.

The game itself is bigger than the winning.

The most complicated skill is to be simple.