[Guille]

One of the best (for me and for many THE best) spanish poets (which are, for me and for many THE best) was Gustavo Adolfo Bécquer did a poem that said practically the same as you in your posts. I had forgotten it until know. But it's great, here I give my translations (which means not perfect) of some parts:


Where I come from?
the most horrible
of the places searchs,
the footprints of blooded feet
over the hard rock,
the rests of a destroyed soul,
will tell you the way
that leads to my birthplace.

Where am I going?
the most horrible
of the places goes by,
hills of eternal snow and of eternal
melancolic mist,
where there's a stone with no inscription
and with no inspiration,
where forgiveness lies,
there will be my tomb.

It's beautifull in spanish, but was in beatifull for some, can make no sense for others, and in english some sentences don't make sense.

Anyway, basically I mean that not only scientists, philosophers, mathematicians and theologians ask those questions, so do artists. And I can't remember who said that we all have an artist inside, it's just that some keep it in. Was it picasso? Anyway, that's that, and it's what there is.

Another tihng is that all answer it. Actually, if one answers thsoe questions, one will have the truth in his mind, and will be on the top of all of humanity, for he will have learned the TOE. But, I believe, none has. Or maybe all have: the TOE is what the answers are to those questions, and each gives his own question, thus each ahs an independent true TOE. But we're trying to put it all up together, which may look simple for a kid: just copy and paste, but is the hardest of all things.