"All our lives, we’ve been treading paper in the space between the words. And there implied’s the thought that we are barely more than bodies for the birds, carrion. They say that we’re just accidental atoms beating air, carrying on and on, unwitting orphans of an unyielding despair. But our hearts tell a different story, our hands feel a different pulse. Something fathomless, deeper than our pride can dive, numinous, higher than our hearts can rise; transcendent, further than our thoughts can reach; immanent, closer than the air we breath."
“Treading Paper” - Thrice
