New York, New York lyrics: “I’m number one / Top of the list / Head of the heap / King of the hill”
When we stand at the summit of personal achievement, there is only one way to go: Down.
New York, New York lyrics: “I’m number one / Top of the list / Head of the heap / King of the hill”
When we stand at the summit of personal achievement, there is only one way to go: Down.
The true man is two-faced to this extent: He plays the game alright but it doesn’t matter to him whether he wins or loses.
Heaven is not won, unless dropping the seed-shell of my public face is winning. Tennyson emerged from one of his trances to say that the loss of personality is the only true life.
It will not be missed when it finally expires, the insane idea that I cannot pull ahead unless someone else falls behind, that in order for me to win, someone has to lose.
Every emotion carries within itself the seed of its opposite. Because it’s a being-state and not an emotion, love has no opposite. Its first quality is stillness. It does not change. Or win.