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Remember that you may be dead, even though your body is moving.

Mennesket er stort i det at det kjenner seg ulykkelig. Et tre kan ikke kjenne seg ulykkelig.

Stoltheten oppveier all ulykke. Enten skjuler den sin ulykke, eller den åpenbarer ulykken og er stolt av å kjenne den.

Menneskets dobbelte natur er så øyensynlig at man har ment vi hadde to sjeler. Man kunne ikke tro at et enkelt vesen var i stand til så store og så plutselige forandringer, fra den mest umåtelige innbilskhet til den dypeste nedslagenhet.

Make no mistake about it, boy, they are coming here, yellow-eyed and ravening, ready to seize you. You will be helpless, defenseless against their power. You have one chance only; release me from this circle and I will help you evade their clutches."[3].

[3] Yep, by destroying him myself before they got there.

The old pain had started up again, throbbing in my chest, stomach, bones. It wasn't healthy to be encased in a body for so long. How humans can stand it without going completely mad, I'll never know... Then again... maybe that explains a lot.

He steps between words with no fear, aware that his tongue could mispronounce anything at any moment. The pause between ‘Meiner’ and ‘Brust’ last five seconds and several lifetimes, and his voice gets weaker on every word, flickering.

“Ich bin der Geist, der st-stets verneint,” he reads. I am the spirit that always denies.

Even in his nervousness he feels a strange connection with the words, as though they don’t belong to Johann Wolfgang but to Rowan Radley.

I am the itch that is never scratched. I am the thirst that is never quenched. I am the boy who never gets.

Why is he like this? What is he denying? What would make him strong enough to have confidence in his own voice?

Nobody is perfect, though. We all want everyone to think we are, but perfection is some crazy mythical state that we can never achieve. It is a goal beyond our grasp, always shifting and changing and taunting us, because it knows...it knows we can never reach it.

The air comes out of one body and is breathed into another. The music, does it pass out of one ear and into another, as the old expression goes? We breathe the light, we breathe the music, we breathe the moment as it passes through us.