A man's life is but a moment in infinity — like dust floating in the stream of time. Turning to our memories, we seem to beat them out of ourselves like an old dusty coat, sometimes admiring their brightness, sometimes choking on their suffocating corrosiveness.

Each of us comes into this world following our unique path, but in the end, we all return to our starting point — stardust. Understanding this, we can feel the vulnerability and significance of our existence. We are made of dust, but we are also a part of the dust of stars, of which we remain a part forever.