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  • "One of the most poetic facts I know about the universe is that essentially every atom in your body was once inside a star that exploded. Moreover, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than did those in your right. We are all, literally, star children, and our bodies are made of stardust." (Lawrence Krauss, "A Universe from Nothing)

    Each time I look at the stars and feel- tritely, perhaps- my cosmic insignificance, each time I consider the exactly perfect clockwork of the universe at large, each time everything works exactly as it has even though maybe there's no reason it should, I am struck, as ever, by the impossibility of everything working as it must, and simultaneously I am forever beholden to everything ever.

    It's a nice feeling, it is.

    I think I rather like it.
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