We’re bubbles rising to the surface, to the “big pop,” as bubbles say.
Freedom is not the freedom to do what I want; it’s the freedom to do what I must.
We look up into the night sky, not at the stars but into the space between them. Simultaneously, we notice a slight scurrying noise as ego quits the premises.
There’s more information on our devices than a library holds.
Wisdom looks up.