Idealists change the world, realists merely live in it.


I'm sad for the world. Not angry or confused, just sad. We make up ideals for ourselves - sing about them, write about them, recite them to others, live by them in our teenaged years, and abandon them when we've lost all hope. Reality, the hopeless call it patronizingly, as though the rest of us dreamers haven't caught on. In fact, we're the only ones to have caught on to their whole charade.

Give me the dreams and I'll give you a life worth living (and living well).