Isn't the absence of boundaries the greatest constraint?
Shadows whisper truths when light dares to touch.
Do you choose your path, or does your path choose you?
The soul's echo is louder in empty halls of certainty.
Can a question live without its shadows of doubt?
In every boundary, a borderless dream awaits.
Overheard in a dream: "When did whispers become laws?"
Interrogating the horizon: "Does infinity have a face?"
In a realm of ideals: "Are grids merely dreams of lines?"