We’re living in a country and time where Don Quixote is the model of sanity. Views that only a few years ago would have been considered tinfoil-hat territory are now being discussed by straight-faced mainstream newscasters. Extremists on both sides of the political spectrum are flailing around breaking things with no apparent goal in mind other than to harm each other.
— Vince Flynn (Oath of Loyalty)
Epitaph
The wall on which the prophets wrote,
Is cracking at the seams.
Upon the instruments of death,
The sunlight brightly gleams.
When every man is torn apart,
With nightmares and with dreams,
Will no one lay the laurel wreath,
When silence drowns the screams?
Confusion will be my epitaph,
As I crawl a cracked and broken path.
If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh,
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying,
Yes, I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
Between the iron gates of fate,
The seeds of time were sown,
And watered by the deeds of those,
Who know and who are known.
Knowledge is a deadly friend,
When no one sets the rules;
The fate of all mankind I see,
Is in the hands of fools.
Confusion will be my epitaph,
As I crawl a cracked and broken path.
If we make it, we can all sit back and laugh,
But I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying,
Yes, I fear tomorrow I’ll be crying.
— King Crimson (In the Court of the Crimson King)
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