Are we so weighed down by the gravity of fear, that no matter how high we choose to rise, we're always pulled back down by this inevitable and pathetic gravity of fear? I'm convinced that no matter how loud the heart screams, the ego cleverly disguises its shrieks. It cunningly silences the heart no matter how loud it shouts. That's why legends ended up being tragic figures!

Music is only considered a masterpiece if it's sad, melancholic and based on broken hearts. Paintings are masterpieces only if they're tragic love stories.

Stories, poetry, quotes, movies, dances, plays, ballets, etc. These are masterpieces...