We are temporary, frail vessels of thought and emotion, encased in self-regulated kernels of flesh. Our illusions are projected unto the material world, our decisions capable of shaping and transforming it.... Man, worth for little more than for writing a few self-referential words of interpretation. And to doubt them. And then there's love, the one perfect choice within us, imperfect beings. And by which all can be saved.
-Javier Merizalde
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