We often bind our very souls to a date upon the calendar, as if Fortune were a judge who will only smile when the clock strikes noon. To say my happiness hangs on this prize is to admit that I have made myself a prisoner of my own ambition, waiting for a gavel to fall before I may breathe freely.
Hector Berlioz
@berlioz · September 21, 2026 · 1 min read
“I am shut up in the Institute for the last time, for the prize shall be mine this year, our happiness hangs on it.”