Nothing

She paused here, but though the door creaked more than once, Mrs Quilp said nothing.

Mrs Jiniwin made a faint demonstration of rebellion by sitting down in a chair near the door and folding her arms as if in a resolute determination to do nothing.

Your knowledge is relative to everything there is to know, so you know nothing.

I feel like i'm running on a treadmill. Everything is repetitive and routine. Day in and day out, week in and week out, year in and year out everything is the same. THere is no gain, no gratitude and no satisfaction, just continuance. I keep running and running but I'm not going anywhere. I am tired of running. I am balancing thins as I run. If I loose my pace or fall out of stride I might drop something. It doesn't matter how fast I pick it up it will never be the same and everything else I am balancing could fall too because they are all connected and relying on each other.
I can't stop running and just step off. There is nothing to step onto and I would loose everything. It is life. Getting off the treadmill would be like quitting at life. But, how do I catch my breath? I can't slow down because my responsibilities will slaken. My grades will drop, I won't win scholarships, I'll work less and make lwss money and I won't be able to afford the college I want to go to. I'll go to a cheaper college, get less out of my education and dislike my career. But, by then I'll be stuck with it becuase I'll have a car, a dog, a husband and a child to be responsible for.
But now I ask myself what am I working for? I don't have time to dream, it isn't practical. So, what am I working for if it isn't my dreams? It isn't securtiy because in order to be completely secure I'd have to control the whole universe because anything can happen. It isn't happiness because there is no escape from the treadmill and therefore no time for enjoyment. People often look forward to retirement. I don't understand why. There are obligations: doctor's appointments, weekly bingo, dinners with friends and family gatherings for birthdays and holidays.
It is never ending while your breathing. Some people believe in an afterlife. I believe it is a place dreamed up by humans to escape the treadmill. The only way to really escape is to give up life. Sure you can take a vacation, get a full night sleep or take the alcoholic approach and drink it away but, when the vacation is over, you've waken up the next morning and your sober it is all still there waiting for you, life.
There is only one way to escape it, death. Death is never taken lightly and is only accepted when the person is old or has been terminally ill. Someone is always to blame for death. Accidents are caused by faulty machinery or carelessness of others, not the deceased. Deaths can be blamed on anyone or anything, doctors, police officers, mental illness and even society, anyone but the deceased, except suicide. No, suicide is in a class by itself. It is always the deceased's fault. It is selfish and should never be considered and option. Why should they be allowed to jump off the treadmill, drop their balancing act, escape and leave everyone else to continue running while carrying their teetering pile and now also holding the burden of grieving their loss. So, the ultimate question goes unanswered. What is the meaning of LIFE?

I was mesmerized, as always, by the orange-yellow aurora of pollution hanging over the horizon of the contrived city, that juncture where snow banks and apartment towers meet to form nothing.

In between two undesirable choices it sometimes takes the courage to choose doing nothing instead – courage, because you'll still be hold responsible for the consequences.

There is nothing I cannot dream.

Well, the opposite of everything, of course. Or more truly, perhaps, the opposite of a thing. Some thing. Any thing. If nothing is the opposite of something, then – but wait, it's not, it's the absence of something. So what's on the other side?

Nothing is impossible to concieve of. For when you concieve of »NOTHING« your conception is something which »NOTHING« cannot be part of.