“Who’s to say what’s impossible?
Well they forgot this world keeps spinning.
And with each new day,
I can feel a change in everything.

And as the surface breaks, reflections fade.
But in some ways they remain the same.
And as my mind begins to spread it’s wings
There’s no stopping curiosity.”

“The world keeps on changing, but there is always something, somewhere, that remains the same.”

“I need to write. It keeps me focused for long enough to complete thoughts. To let each train of thought run to its conclusion and let a new one begin. It keeps me thinking. I’m afraid that if I stop writing I’ll stop thinking and start feeling.”

“I am going to keep my mind (well, what's left of it) occupied by doing (and I never thought the day would come when I would say this) my homework.”

“I stop when I see no more light; it is impossible for me to write by feeling my way.”

“The glow retreats, done is the day of toil;
It yonder hastes, new fields of life exploring;
Ah, that no wing can lift me from the soil
Upon its track to follow, follow soaring!
A glorious dream! though now the glories fade.
Alas! the wings that lift the mind no aid
Of wings to lift the body can bequeath me.”

“Me and all my friends
We're all misunderstood.
They say we stand for nothing and
There's no way we ever could.
Now we see everything that's going wrong
With the world and those who lead it.
We just feel like we don't have the means
To rise above and beat it.So we keep waiting,
Waiting on the world to change.
We keep on waiting,
Waiting on the world to change.
It's hard to beat the system
When we're standing at a distance.
So we keep waiting,
Waiting on the world to change.”

“My mind begins to seem like a video game: I can either play it intelligently, learning more in each round, or I can be killed in the same spot by the same monster, again and again.”

“Painting is aesthetic enjoyment; I want to be a 'poet'. As an artist I must conform to my nature. My nature has a lyrical as well as a dramatic disposition. Not one day is the same. One day I feel wonderful to work and I feel an expression, which shows in the work. Only with a very clear mind on a clear day I can paint without interruptions and without food because my disposition is like that. My work should reflect my moods and the greatest enjoyment I had when I did the work…”

“My plea is not for an impossible subjectivism. But the so-called infallible church or book has no power unless I feel that what it says is true. And who can decide that but myself?”