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Alas! till now I had not known,
My guide and fortune's guide are one.
All the toys that infatuate men, and which they play for, — houses, land, money, luxury, power, fame, are the selfsame thing, with a new gauze or two of illusion overlaid. And of all the drums and rattles by which men are made willing to have their heads broke, and are led out solemnly every morning to parade, — the most admirable is this by which we are brought to believe that events are arbitrary, and independent of actions. At the conjuror's, we detect the hair by which he moves his puppet, but we have not eyes sharp enough to descry the thread that ties cause and effect.
Originally posted by darnext
If you are incredibly wealthy AND you play Beethoven piano concertos to packed houses, have the highest home run record as a baseball player, or you are the fastest man/woman alive in the 100 meters, then perhaps life isn't so bad, after all.
Originally posted by TheLaughingGod
You sharpen the human appetite to the point where it can split atoms with its desire; you build egos the size of cathedrals; fiber-optically connect the world to every eager impulse; grease even the dullest dreams with these dollar-green, gold-plated fantasies, until every human becomes an aspiring emperor, becomes his own God... and where can you go from there?