I don’t see the very point of talking. What is so necessary to convey that one must open one’s mouth and utter words so inaccurate that the meaning may be better understood if never verbalized?
All conversations are empty. All words are repetitious just like the ideas they convey. Nothing one can say has never been said before. Nothing one can think has never been thought of before. And these very statements prove it in irony.
Greatness comes from within. All that is to be known or imagined, all that seems new or fresh is merely a realization of what is already in every mind.
To rephrase an age-old idea, I am everything and I am nothing.
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