The longer I live, the less chance I'll ever recover from what life keeps doing to me.
The whole world is our dining room, but be careful: it is also our garbage can
There is a world which I alone rule, but it ends at my fingertips.
What should I do if my problems aren't all solved by the time I die?
The price of freedom keeps going up, but the quality keeps deteriorating.
The task I've been given seems absurd: To wait here on earth until I no longer exist.