L’attente. L’impatience. L’annonce à l’entrée. Le billet déchiré. Le choix de LA bonne vue. La compétition. L’attente. L’excitation. La première note. Le plaisir. La joie . L’incrédulité. Les frissons. Le voyage intérieur. Le bonheur. L’incrédulité. Les souvenirs. La nostalgie. L’attente.
Vanity Press
A Word-based blog and
alter-ego platform of
musician TrevorDavies.
It's about thought, art,
language and music.
It's about Me!
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We gather our arms full of guilt as though it were precious stuff. It must be that we want it that way.
It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring.
I have always adored out Creator as perfect, but never his creation. I have never denied the evil in the world. No true thinker has ever affirmed that life on earth is harmonious and just, or that man is good, my dear friend. On the contrary. The Holy Bible expressly states that the strivings and doings of man’s heart are evil, and every day we see this confirmed anew.
My mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive; and to do so with some passion, some compassion, some humor, and some style.
Some people never go crazy. What truly horrible lives they must lead.
I have always lived violently, drunk hugely, eaten too much or not at all, slept around the clock or missed two nights of sleeping, worked too hard and too long in glory, or slobbed for a time in utter laziness. I’ve lifted, pulled, chopped, climbed, made love with joy and taken my hangovers as a consequence, not as a punishment.
I mourn the loss of thousands of precious lives, but I will not rejoice in the death of one, not even an enemy. Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.
In general I think that anger is a sign of weakness and tolerance a sign of strength.
Therefore the music of a well-ordered age is calm and cheerful, and so is its government. The music of a restive age is excited and fierce, and its government is perverted. The music of a decaying state is sentimental and sad, and its government is imperiled.
Wicked people never have time for reading. It’s one of the reasons for their wickedness.
Everything has been figured out, except how to live.
Stars were comforting. Though they hung so high, remote and cold, radiating no warmth, they were reliable, firmly aligned, proclaiming order, promising duration. Seemingly so aloof and far and opposed to life on earth, seemingly so untouched by the warmth, the writhings, the sufferings and ecstasies in the life of man, so superior in their cold majesty and eternity that they seemed to make mock of human things, the stars nevertheless had a relation to us. They guided and governed us perhaps, and if any human knowledge, any intellectual hold, any sureness and superiority of the mind over transitory things could be attained and retained, it would resemble the stars, shining like them in cool tranquility, comforting with chilly shivers of awe, looking down eternally and somewhat mockingly.
HERMANN HESSE (from Magister Ludi)
To achieve this cheerful serenity is to me, and to many others, the finest and highest of goals… Such cheerfulness is neither frivolity nor complacency; it is supreme insight and love, affirmation of all reality, alertness on the brink of all depths and abysses; it is a virtue of saints and of knights; it is indestructible and only increases with age and nearness to death. It is the secret of beauty and the real substance of all art. The poet who praises the splendors and terrors of life in the dance-measures of his verse, the musician who sounds them in a pure, eternal present—these are bringers of light, increasers of joy and brightness on earth, even if they lead us first through tears and stress. Perhaps the poet whose verses gladden us was a sad solitary, and the musician a melancholic dreamer; but even so their work shares in the cheerful serenity of the gods and the stars. What they give us is no longer their darkness, their suffering or fears, but a drop of pure light, eternal cheerfulness. Even though whole peoples and languages have attempted to fathom the depths of the universe in myths, cosmogonies, and religions, their supreme, their ultimate attainment has been this cheerfulness.
HERMANN HESSE (from Magister Ludi)
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What Dr. Seuss Books Were Really About // Chris Menning →
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André Gide au piano, Paris, ca 1935 -by Laure Albin-Guillot
Oui, j ‘ai passé avec Chopin plus d’heures que je n’en ai passées avec personne...
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