We hear only our own voices, still echoes returning to our emptiness.
To sense the peace of extinguished passion Happiness in not knowing the ultimate knowledge
We forget old stories, but those stories remain the same.
Death swallows death.
Entering a cell, penetrating deep as a flying saucer to find a new galaxy would be an honorable task for a new scientist interested more in the inner state of the soul than in outer space.
You not only are hunted by others, you unknowingly hunt yourself.