Part One: The Lab
Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:
The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,
Hath had elsewhere its setting,
And cometh from afar.
-William Wordsworth, Ode. Intimations of Immortality
So of a lone unhaunted place possesst,
Did this soul’s second inn, built by a guest,
This living buried man, this quiet mandrake rest.
-John Donne, Progress of the Soul
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