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How would your life change if your actions did all the talking and all you used your mouth for was to say please and thank you?
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p. 74

 

Steve Maraboli

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It is not you talking, but innumerable ancestors talking with your mouth. It is not you who desire, but innumerable generations of descendants longing with your heart.
Your dead do not lie in the ground. They have become birds, trees, air. You sit under their shade, you are nourished by their flesh, you inhale their breathing. They have become ideas and passions, they determine your will and your actions.
Future generations do not move far from you in an uncertain time. They live, desire, and act in your loins and your heart.
In this lightning moment when you walk the earth, your first duty, by enlarging your ego, is to live through the endless march, both visible and invisible, of your own being.

 

Nikos Kazantzakis

 

"What you say in the games is scripted, and the actions the protagonist takes are often things that a player might wish he'd do, but often never would in real life. Hell, just the act of talking to a girl, something that seems to happen in these games without thought, is something most players are almost incapable of doing. Add to that the fact that you are often dealing with several girls, all of whom you are chasing to one degree or another. Maybe the problem isn't that the situations in the games (lots of girls who may be interested in you) isn't phony, maybe it's the actions of the protagonist (guided by the player) that are the biggest fantasy of all."

 

Fred Gallagher

 

Speak the truth! One committed mouth carries the seeds that could change a generation and change the world.

 

Steve Maraboli

 

A remorseful change of mind renders even a noble action base, whereas the determination which is grounded on knowledge and reason cannot change even if its actions fail.

 

Plutarch

 

His speech is clumsy, with a toadlike indolence, long winded, pedantic, choppy. The words tumble from his mouth in sentence fragments, which he holds back as much as possible, as if they were earning interest. It takes forever and a day for him to push out a clump of hardened brain snot. Then he writhes in painful ecstasy, as if he had sugar on his rotten teeth. A very slow blab machine. An obsolete model with a non-working switch — it can't be turned off unless you cut off the electric power altogether. So I'd have to smash him in the kisser. No, I'd have to knock him unconscious. But even if he were unconscious he'd keep talking. Even if his vocal cords were sliced through, he'd keep talking like a ventriloquist. Even if his throat were cut and his head were chopped off, speech balloons would still dangle from his mouth like gases emitted by internal decay.

 

Klaus Kinski