What has been known to the creative power of mind since the age old epic of Prometheus--since Heraclitus posed the ironical paradox of constant change as substance--is that the composition of the mind of mankind is like the greatest fugal music that can never, never be reduced to mere mechanical machinery; no matter its complexity.
That is the essence of all that will ever hold the beauty of truth.Those that argue otherwise are all unknowingly quite ugly. As Goya so wonderfully illustrated there are those whose faces deserve to be covered by trousers.
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