Space is unlimited. Knowledge is unlimited. Power is unlimited. Creativity is unlimited. Life is unlimited. Humanity is limited.
You are so young. Just a few thousand years old. And so small, so unbelievable small and vulnerable. Soft, you skin is so soft, as is your soul, even if you pretend to be the ruler, the king and queen, the master of life and the universe. You try so hard to turn yourself a god, to wipe your kind out of time and of space – where all you had to do is to look into the mirror to be reconciled.
Men is the root of what is to come. The reason. The whole variety of feelings the source of everything, the good, and the bad, whatever this is.