Eta Carinae

How many times in a day do I accept these microtragedies of the fate? How many times have I surrendered control of my life, just because I'm not entirely sure it belongs to me, or that I deserve it? I hang my head and tell myself "It's for the best," or "It just wasn't meant to be," as if relinquishing supreme dictatorship to the Universe.

Well, this is incongruous with what I know of the Universe. She is cold and indifferent to the petty plight of man. This is because She has supplanted all her passion into us. She has given us no weapons, no armies, not even a strategy. She has given us only a tiny, indestructible ball of iron will, forged in eternal fire, so that we can charge from the front lines, teeth gnashing, crying not "I can," but "I will it, and so it is."