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"If this young man expresses himself in terms too deep for me,Why, what a very singularly deep young man this deep young man must be!"
—W. S. Gilbert, Patience
and what about the deal on that flyingdew drop inn
trapeze got a peanut butter hand
but honey do drop in at the
—Tori Amos, Muhammad My Friend
Ridicully: Funny thing, that. That statement is either so deep it would take a lifetime to fully comprehend every particle of its meaning, or it is a load of absolute tosh. Which is it, I wonder?Ridicully: Don't push it, Senior Wrangler.
Senior Wrangler: It could be both.
Ridicully: And that comment is either very perceptive, or very trite.
Senior Wrangler: It might be bo--
Mountains. Heavy are the mountains. But that changes with the passage of time.Who are you? Who are you? Who are you...
Sky, blue sky. What your eyes can't see. What your eyes can see.
The sun. One, only one.
Water. It is a grey pool. Commander Ikari.
Flowers. So many the same, so many without purpose.
Sky. Sky of red. Red the colour, the colour I hate.
The liquid flows. It drips, ripples, and pours. Blood. Scent of blood, woman who does not bleed.
On the red soil the humans come. Humans made by man and woman.
City. A human creation. EVA. A human creation as well.
What are humans? Are they creations of God? Humans, and that which is created by humans.
This is that which is mine. My life; my heart. I am a vessel for my thoughts.
The entry plug; the throne of the soul. Who is this? This is me.
Who am I? What am I? What am I? What am I? What am I...
I am I.
This object that is myself, that which forms what is me. This is the self that can be seen and yet it is not like that which is myself.
A strange feeling. My body feels as if it is melting. I can no longer see myself, my form, my shape...It fades from view.
Awareness dawns of someone who is not me; who was here, there, beyond me here.
Shinji? This person I know, Major Katsuragi. Doctor Akagi. People. My classmates. The pilot of Unit 02. Commander Ikari?
—Rei Ayanami, Neon Genesis Evangelion
To say that a work of art is good but incomprehensible to the majority of men is the same as saying of some kind of food that it is very good but people cannot eat it.—Leo Tolstoy
"I'm not saying I like my sci-fi films to be obvious. In fact, nothing could be more boring. But being obtuse just for the sake of being obtuse is, I think, a far greater sin. Because with a film like Zardoz, you know there's a lot of intelligence, skill, and talent up on the screen, but sadly it's all just wasted because no one can make head or tails of anything that's going on."
Gibberish For Art's Sake: Some writers are convinced that since great modern authors like Joyce and Faulkner are difficult to understand, writing that is difficult to understand is therefore great writing. This is a form of magical thinking, analogous to the belief that the warrior who dons the pelt of a lion thereby acquires its strength and cunning.