Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantment for truth.
A man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his life as if he were recounting it.
Life is nothing until it is lived; but it is yours to make sense of, and the of it is nothing other than the sense you choose.
Man is abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no aim but what he sets himself.
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