The secrets of the universe are written in a language we cannot understand, printed in a book we cannot find, however hard we try.

Out of all the infinite possibilities that can take form and exist, you are one. And so am I. You and I are related in ways we know little about.

I simply cannot wrap my mammalian brain around the notion that there can be a reality where there is no space and time.

I feel a void within me sometimes. It’s like the nothingness that exists in the universe has seeped into me.

When I die, I will dissolve into the world that I lived in. The basic elements and energy that made me will go back to the universe that made them, to be used to create something else.

I want to gaze through my telescope at every patch of the night sky and be overwhelmed by the marvel of creation. You can take away my telescope and I will use my bare eyes. Take away my eyes and I will see through my mind, for I cannot unsee the truth.

I want to give up. My sensory organs and my brain have evolved just enough to ensure that I survive and reproduce. They are not equipped to experience higher reality and answer profound questions, as that is not a survival need.

We owe our existence to imperfection. Let’s not try too hard to be perfect in a far from perfect universe.

In a way, our brains mimic the universe in the way they have turned out. They are far from perfect, not fully evil yet not fully good, not fully brilliant yet not fully naive.