matrix

Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right, here I am -- not stuck in the middle, but hovering above the entire farcical spectrum, weeping as I behold my fellow man's devotion to political illusion and self-destruction.

Drama does not just walk into our lives. Either we create it, invite it, or associate with it.

When my son speaks of playing sports, I've always told him: playing on the team is great, but aspire to be the guy who owns the team. I've always told my son: most of the guys on the team will end up bankrupt with bum knees, but not the guy who owns that franchise.

Sometimes I have to act crazy to handle the crazies. Trying to be normal near the crazies makes me as crazy as them. The more I push reason and logic on them, the more they pervert it and use it against me, the angrier they make me feel. It's much easier to pretend they're ghosts talking to the wind, and ignore them as if they weren't really human. My mood improves, my self-esteem is better and I feel happier. On another hand, maybe I'm just being realistic here, because you can't really talk to the dead. That's what people without respect or empathy are; dead in the brain; just walking bodies without a soul.

We may call Eurydice forth from the world of the dead, but we cannot make her answer; and when we turn to look at her we glimpse her only for a moment, before she slips from our grasp and flees. As all historians know, the past is a great darkness, and filled with echoes. Voices may reach us from it; but what they say to us is imbued with the obscurity of the matrix out of which they come; and, try as we may, we cannot always decipher them precisely in the clearer light of our own day.

And the Flatline aligned the nose of Kuang's sting with the center of the dark below. And dove. Case's sensory input warped with their velocity. His mouth filled with an aching taste of blue. His eyes were eggs of unstable crystal, vibrating with a frequency whose name was rain and the sounds of trains, suddenly sprouting a humming forest of hair-fine spines. The spines split, bisected, split again, exponential growth under the dome of the Tessier-Ashpool ice.

Program your life the way you want it to be: don't waste the unuse energy that lodges in the matrix of your soul. You are transcendent, be a superintendent.

...he didn't know if he was Chuang Tzu who dreamed he was a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming he was Chuang Tzu.

The world is one Matrix, you don't realise it but it's the truth. It's well shown in the films like Matrix 1,2,3 and Inception!

I believe that the world is one strong matrix, to get out of it you can't safe somebody unless you make it such way so you both die. I believe then... at that moment you are out of the Matrix, but it's just kind of paradox which is 50-50.

There is a glitch in the Matrix ("Real World")_ Illusions is one of them.

Any human being should be capable of three things to earn such title: live alone, hunt and drive anything with or without wheels. If you don't have these three things, you're either a slave or an animal. Any idea about being social or human has been cleverly associated with these two things, in order to make believe that being a social animal is the ideal to aspire for, especially if such animal is enslaved by a certain amount of ideals promoted by the system that gives him life and cuts it off as soon as he shows himself undeserving.

Everyone know is, soul does it or it doesn't exist it really doesn't matter. What does it matter is that you will die soon and you will be out of the Matrix!

Why, Mr. Anderson?, Why, why?. Why do you do it? Why, why get up?.Why keep fighting?. Do you believe you're fighting...for something?.For more than your survival?. Can you tell me what it is?. Do you even know?; Is it freedom?, Or truth?.Perhaps peace?. Could it be for love?Illusions, Mr. Anderson. Vagaries of perception. Temporary constructs of a feeble human intellect trying desperately to justify an existence that is without meaning or purpose. And all of them as artificial as the Matrix itself, although... only a human mind could invent something as insipid as love. You must be able to see it, Mr. Anderson. You must know it by now, You can't win. It's pointless to keep fighting. Why, Mr. Anderson?. Why?, Why do you persist?. Agent Smith ( Matrix Revolutions Movie, 2003 ).

Give someone everything you can think of, the wings to fly and the roots to stay. If they chose none of these hold the door open for them with a smile

Our society shuns people for being a bright light in the world. Sometimes if you are too futuristic people do not like how revolutionary you are

Have you ever been totally happy or at peace and then begun to worry for no apparent reason? We live in a constant battle of conflict and comparison. If you stop asserting the need to label or to judge, you'll learn acceptance and understanding which is the basis of inner-balance

We live in an energy-responsive world where intention radiates throughout. Fundamental to everything is attitude and perception