“The power of the harasser, the abuser, the rapist depends above all on the silence of women.”
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It had never occurred to me before that music and thinking are so much alike. In fact you could say music is another way of thinking, or maybe thinking is another kind of music.
My imagination makes me human and makes me a fool it gives me all the world, and exiles me from it.
I certainly wasn't happy. Happiness has to do with reason, and only reason earns it. What I was given was the thing you can't earn, and can't keep, and often don't even recognize at the time I mean joy.
Inventions have long since reached their limit, and I see no hope for further development.