Our life, this worthless tract of the present incredibly cramped by two dreadful and prone to expansion bodies called the past and the future. This is the thick we cannot even imagine. It’s the eternity before us and the eternity after us. No doubt, dreadful is the void after our disappearance. But is the void before our appearance any better? Hundreds of thousands of years of drawing in silence and darkness, in being’s cold laboratories? I know no greater loneliness than the loneliness of each one of us, no greater emptiness than the one treats us cruelly.

—Yuri Andrukhovych, The Central Eastern Revision