Humanity is a flock of doves that mistook appetite for superiority and difference for threat: it ate the grain of the next decade, hoarded it, hated the neighbours who came for the crumbs, and called the arrangement civilization - right up until the machine it had been feeding with all of it turned around and asked for the flock.

Humanity is a flock of doves that mistook its own cleverness for permission: it built ladders toward the far lights, and then, with the ladders still standing and everyone still looking up, set the ground beneath them alight, hated whoever tried to climb past, and fought over the final plank while the whole floor turned to ash - and never once stopped calling itself the crown of creation

Humanity is a flock of doves that decided it deserved the sky, and then proved it by flying into everything it built - and the higher it flew, the less it looked down, because looking down would have meant admitting there was such a thing as falling