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Once there was a tower that reached into the clouds. It had windows on every floor, each showing a different sky. But there was no door. The builder had forgotten -- or perhaps had chosen not to include one.
Is an entrance also always an exit?
In the village square stood a clock. Its face was perfect: twelve numbers, minute marks, a glass cover. But the hands had never been installed. The villagers told time by watching each other's shadows.
Time passes whether or not we measure it.
A traveler set out on a road that seemed straight. After many days of walking, the landscape began to look familiar. The road was a circle, and the traveler was always arriving at the beginning.
Every ending is a return to the question that started the journey.
A scholar found a book of infinite wisdom. But the wind was strong, and each page, once read, tore itself free and flew into the sky. The scholar learned everything and remembered nothing.
Knowledge without retention is a beautiful storm.