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Todos quieren lo mejor para su culo...

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¿Qué es la vida? Un frenesí.
¿Qué es la vida? Una ilusión, una sombra, una ficción; y el mayor bien es pequeño;
que toda la vida es sueño, y los sueños, sueños son.

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Los sentimientos, las preocupaciones, temores forman parte de nosotros, pero normalmente no los vemos o no nos animamos a decirlos.A veces contándolos uno se da cuenta de que no esta solo o de que se puede arreglar.
La gente mas simpática puede no tener un hogar a donde ir, tal ves una persona que pensás que era despreocupada tiene algún temor que le carcome la cabeza.O tal ves esa persona que piensa que esta bien sola en realidad necesita afecto a gritos.Las cosas nunca suelen ser lo que parecen.
Pero gracias que nos tenemos para ayudarnos.

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O Captain, my captain!!

Walden

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practice resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms, and, if it proved to be mean, why then to get the whole and genuine meanness of it, and publish its meanness to the world; or if it were sublime, to know it by experience, and be able to give a true account of it in my next excursion.

Dead Poets Society II

Neil: Hey!
Todd: Hey.
Neil: What's going on?
Todd: Nothing. Today's my birthday.
Neil: Is today your birthday? Happy birthday!
Todd: Thanks.
Neil: What'd you get?
Todd: My parents gave me this.
Neil: Isn't this the same desk set...
Todd: Yeah. Yeah, they gave me the same thing as last year.
Neil: Oh.
Todd: Oh.
Neil: Maybe they thought you needed another one.
Todd: Maybe they weren't thinking about anything at all. The funny thing is about this is, I didn't even like it the first time.
Neil: Todd, I think you're underestimating the value of this desk set.
Neil: I mean, who would want a football or a baseball or...
Todd: Or a car.
Neil: Or a car, if they could have a desk set as wonderful as this one? I mean, if-if I were ever going to buy a desk set, twice, I would probably buy this one. Both times! In fact, its shape is... it's rather aerodynamic, isn't it?
Neil: You can feel it. This desk set wants to fly!
Neil: Todd? The world's first unmanned flying desk set.
Neil: Oh my! Well, I wouldn't worry. You'll get another one next year.

Dead poets Society

Keating: Close your eyes, close your eyes! Close 'em! Now, describe what you see.
Todd: Uh, I-I close my eyes.
Keating: Yes.
Todd: Uh, and this image floats beside me.
Keating: A sweaty-toothed madman.
Todd: A sweaty-toothed madman with a stare that pounds my brain.
Keating: Oh, that's excellent! Now, give him action - make him do something!
Todd: H-His hands reach out and choke me.
Keating: That's it! Wonderful, wonderful!
Toddn: And all the time he's mumbling.
Keating: What's he mumbling?
Todd: Mumbling truth.
Keating: Yeah, yes.
Todd: Truth like-like a blanket that always leaves your feet cold.
Keating: [some of the class start to laugh] Forget them, forget them! Stay with the blanket. Tell me about that blanket!
Todd: Y-Y-You push it, stretch it, it'll never be enough. You kick at it, beat it, it'll never cover any of us. From the moment we enter crying t-to the moment we leave dying, it'll just cover your face as you wail and cry and scream.
...
John Keating: Don't you forget this.

discurso del metodo

El buen sentido es lo cosa mejor repartida del mundo, pues cada uno piensa estar tan bien provisto de el  que aun aquellos que son mas difíciles de contentar en todo lo de más, no acostumbran a desear mas del que tienen

4

Una pregunta:¿Que probabilidad hay de que
algo pueda surgir de la nada?O al revés,claro:
¿Es posible que algo haya existido siempre?
O, en todo caso:¿Es posible calcular la
probabilidad de que la materia cósmica de
repente una mañana se haya frotado
somnolienta los ojos despertando a
la conciencia de si misma?

Carp diem

Tu ne quaesieris (scire nefas) quem mihi, quem tibi
finem di dederint, Leuconoe, nec Babylonios
temptaris numeros. Vt melius, quidquid erit, pati!
seu pluris hiemes, seu tribuit Iuppiter ultimam,
quae nunc oppositis debilitat pumicibus mare
Tyrrhenum: sapias, uina liques et spatio breui
spem longam reseces. Dum loquimur, fugerit inuida
aetas: carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero.

Traducción:

No pretendas saber, pues no está permitido,

el fin que a mí y a ti, Leucónoe,
nos tienen asignados los dioses,
ni consultes los números Babilónicos.
Mejor será aceptar lo que venga,
ya sean muchos los inviernos que Júpiter
te conceda, o sea éste el último,
el que ahora hace que el mar Tirreno
rompa contra los opuestos cantiles.
No seas loca, filtra tus vinos
y adapta al breve espacio de tu vida
una esperanza larga.
Mientras hablamos, huye el tiempo envidioso.
Vive el día de hoy. Captúralo.
No fíes del incierto mañana.