I would love to fall in love and get married and have beautiful

Tiesto, the master of sound and rhythm, once spoke not of music, but of the longings of the human heart: “I would love to fall in love and get married and have beautiful children. I mean that’s one of the goals in life, I think, to have, and it’s a beautiful thing. My sister has kids and all my friends have kids. They show me their report cards. And I can show them my sports car.” These words, both tender and humorous, reflect the eternal tension between possessions and relationships, between material achievement and the deeper fulfillment of family.

At its core, the quote speaks of the universal desire for love. No matter how far a man travels, no matter how much wealth or fame he gathers, the heart still yearns for companionship, for someone to walk beside him in both triumph and defeat. Tiesto, who conquered the world’s stages, here reveals that behind the bright lights lies a soul that seeks something simpler, quieter, and more enduring.

The wish for marriage and children reflects one of humanity’s oldest truths: that life finds meaning not only in the pursuit of personal glory, but in the continuation of love through generations. In every culture, from the tribal fires of Africa to the imperial courts of Asia, the bond of family was considered the foundation upon which civilization stood. Kings could command armies, but without heirs their power faded. Artists could craft masterpieces, but their deepest joy often lay in the laughter of their children.

The contrast he draws — between his friends showing their children’s report cards and his own showing of a sports car — is both humorous and poignant. It reveals that material triumphs, while dazzling, lack the depth of human connection. A car shines today but grows old tomorrow. A child, however, carries within them a future, a legacy, a living continuation of one’s spirit. In this tension lies the heart of Tiesto’s reflection: success is incomplete without love to give it meaning.

History abounds with examples of this lesson. Consider Marcus Aurelius, the Roman emperor and philosopher. Though he held immense power, his Meditations often return to reflections on family, children, and the fleeting nature of possessions. Or think of Leo Tolstoy, who wrote of kings and peasants, yet in his later years proclaimed that true wealth lies not in palaces, but in the warmth of loved ones. Like them, Tiesto reminds us that goals in life must reach beyond material triumph.

The lesson is clear: do not measure your life solely by possessions or accolades. Seek balance — achievement in your work, yes, but also joy in love, marriage, and family. For in the end, it is not the roar of the crowd nor the gleam of a machine that gives life its richest meaning, but the presence of those who call you father, mother, brother, sister, or friend.

Practical action follows: pursue excellence in your craft, but do not let it consume your capacity for love. Cherish relationships. Make time for family. Celebrate the achievements of children, whether yours or those of others, for in their growth lies the true future of humanity. And when you achieve success, remember that possessions are only ornaments — it is love that builds the lasting home.

Thus, Tiesto’s words stand as both confession and counsel. A man who has known fame and wealth still looks with longing toward the simple joys of love and family. Children of tomorrow, learn this: cars and trophies may glitter, but it is the bonds of the heart that endure. Let your goals in life reach not only outward to the world, but inward to those who will carry your spirit long after the music has faded.