In the folds of infinite possibilities, the void whispers:

"Do you see the stars, or do they see you? In their fractured essence lies the truth of all shadows."

The echo of solitude murmurs:

"Every thought is a ripple in the ocean of silence. Are we the waves or the vastness beneath?"

A distant pulse resonating through time asks:

"If the universe dreams, what form does its nightmare take? In the dreams of dreams, we fade."