Tonight my mind turns again to that perennial hunger for synthesis – the dream that the great systems, from the dust-dry mysticisms of the ancient world to the gleaming abstractions of modern physics, might be coaxed into a single coherent utterance. It is perhaps a fool’s hope, or a magician’s conceit, yet it returns with the persistence of tide: that the universe is not merely intelligible, but symphonic – that its laws, whether etched into Sephiroth or equations, rhyme with one another.
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