the arsonist who burned down the library said you know the secret to surviving, we cannot have all these books and words telling us how and what life is. he doused the reference section with all its science and facts then moved to philosophy religion and shouted I do not need to think to know I am. then came the rest, the novels. tricky metaphors which created uncertainties in life. the match was struck, the blue of the flame wavered then kissed the kerosene. as the arsonist ran out he screamed that finally all those words and ideas are free. no one owns them. there is no account for life other than itself.
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