We must face the facts: our lives, in the grand scheme of things, are short. Like the leaves falling from the tree, we bloom, flourish, and inevitably wither. Vast expanses of time preceded each of us, and equally vast expanses of time will follow us. We were not there, will not be there, to know what happens; we will never meet the people who inhabit those times, as they will never meet us. Our existence is, as Robert Ingersoll said, like a narrow vale between two cold and barren peaks.

Die Worte sprechen für sich, meine baren, armseligen, würden nur die Schönheit obenstehender Zeilen zerstören. Zerknüllen wie ein misslungener Papierflieger und in den Mülleimer werfen. Wenn nicht…

daylight atheism - Fragile Trappings