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Women, as some witty Frenchman once put it, inspire us with the desire to do masterpieces, and always prevent us from carrying them out.
Oscar WildeDer Spruch darf mit Autorenangabe frei verwendet werden, da die urheberrechtliche Schutzfrist abgelaufen ist († 30. November 1900) Zur Autorenbiographie
[...] being human is being a young child on Christmas Day who receives and absolutely magnificent castle. And there is a perfect photograph of this castle on the box and you want more than anything to play with the castle and the knights and the princesses because it looks like such a perfect human world, but the only problem is that the castle isn't built. It's in tiny intricate pieces, and although there's a book of instructions you don't understand it. And nor can your parents or Aunt Sylvie. So you are just left, crying at the ideal castle on the box which no one would ever be able to build.
Now that it's over I just wanna hold her I'd give up all the world to see that little piece of heaven looking back at me Now that it's over I just wanna hold her I've gotta live with the choices I made And I cant live with myself today
Here I am, once again I'm torn into pieces Can't deny it, can't pretend Just thought you were the one Broken up, deep inside But you won't get to see the tears I cry Behind these hazel eyes
This planet has - or rather had - a problem, which was this: most of the people living on it were unhappy for pretty much of the time. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these were largely concerned with the movements of small green pieces of paper, which is odd because on the whole it wasn't the small green pieces of paper that were unhappy.
What happens when all your dreams are lying on the ground? Do you pick up the pieces all around? And if the world should fall apart, hold on to what you know. Take your chances turn around and go!