16 Quotes by Min-gyu Park

The world we know is a measure of our own experience. To someone who's worked underground his entire life, the underground will be all he knows of the world. That's why people shouldn't theorize about the meaning of life or suggest one way to live your life because a person's world is defined by his own experience and no one else's. No two person can have the same life; no two people can be the same. Once someone starts saying otherwise, you know he's heading straight to bullshit boulevard.

The only times we ever truly see anything is when it’s too late. Not until the arrival of death do we realize that the dying person has a soul. Only upon sensing that the soul is abut to leave do we take a good look and whisper to ourselves, it’s fading away.

There are many ways to deal with pain. You can protect the wound and wait until it heals or, at the very worst, remove the inflamed area and suture the wound. But in my case, the world never gave me time to heal. They took turns clawing and hacking at my wound.

I’d turned into someone who realized that when a loved one leaves, she’ll take with her the tree inside of you that was now inhabiting every single inch of you. Your heart will be left in tatters and caked with mud, like a tree ripped from its place. And where the tree once was, there would only be a gaping hole. It was a painful and crushing thought. Only those who’ve had those trees inside of them have the right to discuss the astronomical losses and profits life throws at us.

People love beautiful faces. They say God loves everyone, but people don’t. There might be some who do, but, as far as I know, the people I’ve encountered in my lifetime certainly do not love everyone.

I agree beauty must be appreciated. I also know not everyone can be the same. What I find unfair, though, is why did the world tell us we’re all equal? Why does it behave as if we’re living under equal conditions? If someone is to be measured against a yardstick, shouldn’t the yardstick be something that can be overcome by effort? No one’s appreciated me for anything I’ve done, I’ve only been judged on my looks.

What I did realize was that once you’ve loved and lost, your heart is left tattered and frayed as the insides of a worn old sneaker. And no amount of laundry in the world can ever make the sneaker look brand new again. All you can do is lay it out under the sun or store it in a cool, dry place.

Just as how you can never rake all the dead leaves, no matter how hard you try, you can never recover all your memories. Some pieces of me will always stay buried underneath time.

Are humans really a collective failure? Or are we a success? What defines failure and success? Do humans ever get to see the dark side of the moon? Do humans ever see what’s inside of themselves? How were we able to go to the moon? Can it be even those men who walked on the surface of the moon will never set foot on the surface of their inner selves?