308. WHILE ...

308.

'While I think: here I lie under a haystack... 

The tiny bit of space I occupy is so minute in comparison

with the rest of the universe, where I am not and which is

not concerned with me; and the period of time in which it is
my lot to live is so infinitesimal compared with the eternity in
which I have not and shall not be ... And yet here, in this 

atom which is myself, in this mathematical point, blood 

circulates, the brain operates and aspires to something too ...

What a monstrous business! What futility!'

{Ivan Turgenev, Fathers and Sons}