"Gravity is but a whisper," she said, her words dancing across the void. "And time, a mere suggestion of presence."
A door opens not in space but in understanding, he thought, eyeing the horizon that bent under its invisible weight. "Would you argue with infinity?" he mused, turning his back to the endless corridor.
The knowledge vacuum swirls, absorbing echoes of thoughts unthought. Perpetual motion of the mind, she sighed, watching ideas float like forgotten ships.
Entangled Strings of Thought Emotional Echoes in Space Floating Paradoxes