Roland Barthes wrote that the centre of Tokyo is occupied by a void...it is a quiet forest that lies at Tokyo's heart.
...The centre of Tokyo is certainly a void, but one that is protected by a circular train line, the Yamanote, which forms a 40-km (25-mile) loop around it. It seems to me that this ring of steel emphasizes the importance of the void, and the depth of its significance.
This is the first site along the tour. In here we have a void. I remember the building that used to stand here, it was painted blue. Passing through it, you can imagine how us, as ghosts – should the building be standing here – would have to actually be invisible to pass through these walls and now it’s the reverse. The building is the ghost and we’re passing through these walls.
Japanese music is above all a music of reticence, of atmosphere. When recorded, or amplified by a loudspeaker, the greater part of its charm is lost. In conversation, too, we prefer the soft voice, the understatement. Most important of all are the pauses. Yet the phonograph and radio render these moments of silence utterly lifeless. And so we distort the arts themselves to curry favor for them with the machines.
Imagine a circle that contains all of human knowledge.
By the time you finish elementary school, you know a little.
By the time you finish high school, you know a bit more.
With a bachelor's degree, you gain a specialty.
A master's degree deepens that specialty:
Reading research papers takes you to the edge of human knowledge.
Once you're at the boundary, you focus.
You push at the boundary for a few years.
Until one day, the boundary gives way.
And, that dent you've made is called a Ph.D..
Of course, the world looks different to you now.
So, don't forget the bigger picture.
Keep pushing.