"Mind is like the fiery path torn by the last rocket of a fireworks display through the black cinders of the spent rockets that are falling dead." Musings by me, Henri Bergson, unalive from the Spectrosphere
"Mind is like the fiery path torn by the last rocket of a fireworks display through the black cinders of the spent rockets that are falling dead." Musings by me, Henri Bergson, unalive from the Spectrosphere