Anybody can find infinite Mandelbrot figures in his navel. — Poul Anderson

Light fills the air, wind is aglow, drink of it, breathe of it, make leafing.

Rainfall sows itself, it grows down through soil to the secret places where stones abide; it brings the strength of them up rootward.

Lie still, molder away, then be again grass.

"I've heard assorted rhapsodies about humankind going to the stars, of course. Who hasn't? Each of them founders on the practical problems."

"The fish that first ventured ashore had considerable practical problems."

All those agonizing philosophical-theological conundrums amount to "Ask a silly question, get a silly answer."