Kim: You have absolutely no chance with her, you know? She is married and has a child.
Devon: So? Dude, fifty percent of marriages fail, and I'm a patient man.
Kim: No. You are a sad man.
Devon: Ha. That ain't gonna dissuade me. My delusional view of the world is what allows me to function like a normal person.
Phillipe, Phillipe, Phillipe. The saddest thing is a retarded man who is crying and promising a broken egg that it will still be a chicken someday.
It was probably a really small wish. A wish that could not be realized. And the days left in our hands. However much we may cry, the past will not come back..
But why! I just wanted to understand this world's knowledge! I wanted to experience it! Free! I just wanted to be free! Free to know...
— Father, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
In the foregoing story, I tried to narrate the process of a defeat. I first thought of that archbishop of Canterbury who took it upon himself to prove there is a God; then, of the alchemists who sought the philosopher's stone; then, of the vain trisectors of the angle and squarers of the circle. Later I reflected that it would be more poetic to tell the case of a man who sets himself a goal which is not forbidden to others, but is to him. I remembered Averroes who, closed within the orb of Islam, could never know the meaning of the terms tragedy and comedy. I related his case; as I went along, I felt what that god mentioned by Burton must have felt when he tried to create a bull and created a buffalo instead. I felt that the work was mocking me. I felt that Averroes, wanting to imagine what a drama is without ever having suspected what a theater is, was no more absurd than I, wanting to imagine Averroes with no other sources than a few fragments from Renan, Lane and Asin Palacios.