" There are, among one’s most generative extrapolations of trajectory, instances of exceptional beauty—or rather, instances of perception of exception to unexceptional beauty. And one loses therein a sense of time because a prediction of ‘now’ is interleaved rather often with those models of ‘then’ and ‘thereafter.’ Thus, we have these outlier instances in which purpose appears firmly rooted in ‘Something’; yet, so abbreviated are these that one is often left inexorably with the trauma of thinking of them as flukes, mere flashes of faulty wiring that have managed somehow to manifest a resemblance to a Something rather ‘spiritual’ in both flavor and texture; it is only natural for a kind of discomfiture to emerge out of this realization for this sidereal specter has passed all too quickly and with much of its purported grandeur now sinking with absurd melodrama into that cosmic abyss scraped by its wake, thitherto descending into nebulous depths and evading any hope of recapture and restoration. There are, in other words, these momentous waves of probabilistic ‘Something’ which curl in void and crash to a convergence of semblance and are soon thereafter to be strewn into fathomless Nihility. "

― Ashim Shanker