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These Endless Nights To be human is to be somehow damaged, is to exist outside of nature and have no kinship with it, to possess the knowledge of the gods and no wisdom to temper it. The awareness and fear of death drives us to strange and terrible things. There is an evil brought to life with our consciousness that did not exist before and will not exist beyond us. I say evil, but I imagine there must be some kind of beauty In it too. Strange and terrible, but beauty just the same. I tell myself this on these endless nights, again and again; there must be some beauty in it too. |