Une constellation de phénomènes vitaux

You are mine. I recognize you. We twist our souls around each other's miseries. It is that which makes us family.

There is something miraculous in the way the years wash away your evidence, first you, then your friends and family, then the descendants who remember your face, until you aren’t even a memory, you’re only carbon, no greater than your atoms, and time will divide them as well.

Life: a constellation of vital phenomena—organization, irritability, movement, growth, reproduction, adaptation.

We wear clothes, and speak, and create civilizations, and believe we are more than wolves. But inside us there is a word we cannot pronounce and that is who we are.