We are chained to that which we do not forgive
Then I went back into the house and wrote, It is midnight. The rain is beating on the windows. It was not midnight. It was not raining.
Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try Again. Fail again. Fail better.
Don't look for meaning in the words. Listen to the silences.
Words and images run riot in my head, pursuing, flying, clashing, merging, endlessly. But beyond this tumult there is a great calm, and a great indifference, never really to be troubled by anything again.
That's the mistake I made, one of the mistakes, to have wanted a story for myself, whereas life alone is enough.
Perhaps that's what I feel, an outside and an inside and me in the middle, perhaps that's what I am, the thing that divides the world in two, on the one side the outside, on the other the inside, that can be as thin as foil, I'm neither one side nor the other, I'm in the middle, I'm the partition, I've two surfaces and no thickness, perhaps that's what I feel, myself vibrating, I'm the tympanum, on the one hand the mind, on the other the world, I don't belong to either.
A principle isn't a principle until it costs you something.
One cannot find a healthy economy anywhere in the world that does not have a strong industrial base, period.
What would you do if I died? If you died I would want to die too. So you could be with me? Yes. So I could be with you. Okay.
The Wyclef Jean music is eclectic music. Wyclef represents music -eclectic music. I've been doing this music since I was a child, and I said I will refuse for anyone to put me into a box.