Spannenderweise war es eben diese Vernunft, mein Verstand, der mich nicht zum ersten Mal zwang, mich zu erinnern. Mich an meine Gefühle erinnerte. An das, was wir sind. Glaube ich...
"We are the music-makers
and we are the dreamers of dreams.
Wandering by lonely sea-breakers
and sitting by desolate streams.
World-losers
and world-forsakers,
on whom the pale moon gleams.
Yet we are the movers and shakers
of the world, forever, it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties
we built up with world's great cities.
And out of a fabulous story
we fashion an empire's glory.
One man with a dream
at pleasure shall go forth and conquer a crown.
And three, with a new song's measure,
can trample an empire down.
We, in the Ages lying,
in the buried past of the earth,
built Niniveh with our sighing,
and Babel itself with our mirth.
And o'erthrew them with prophesying
to the old of the new world's worth.
For each age is a dream that is dying
or
one that is coming to birth."
aus: Dead Poet's Society
Es klingt nicht so unpassend. Oder?
