Ningún día se repite, ni dos noches son iguales, ni dos besos parecidos ni dos citas similares. - Wisława Szymborska

Within him, there's awful darkness, in the darkness a small boy. <p> God of humor, do something about him, OK? God of humor, do something about him today.

And how can we talk of order overall when the very placement of the stars leaves us doubting just what shines for whom?<p>Not to speak of the fog's reprehensible drifting! And dust blowing all over the steppes as if they hadn't been partitioned! And the voices coasting on obliging airwaves, that conspiratorial squeaking, those indecipherable mutters! Only what is human can truly be foreign.

He has only just learned to tell dreams from waking; only just realized that he is he; only just whittled with his hand né fin a flint, a rocket ship; easily drowned in the ocean's teaspoon, not even funny enough to tickle the void: sees only with his eyes; hears only with his ears; his speech's personal best is the conditional; he uses his reason to pick holes in reason. In short, he's next to to one, but his head's full of freedom, omniscience and the Being beyond his foolish meat — did you ever!