The howl of a maggot, the soft whirring of a miniature machine, the chattering of a code, the clanking of a heavy door, the echoing of a cackle and the clicking of gears.

Then there is the soft purring of a cat, the crawling of a were- wolf, the howling of a lion, the howling of a monstrous ogres, the howling of a demolished city, or the screeching of a chamber made impenetrable by iron bars. In harmonic order these sounds are as far from death to life as are from life to death.

They move at the speed of thought, and yet they are timeless. They move at the dawn of creation, and yet they are eternal. In addition to these vast and complex structures of sounds, there are simple and often agonizingly simple sounds. A cat purrs, and then suddenly stops purring, and clatters on the floor aggressively.

A horse neighs, and then stops neighing, and shifts its weight from one foot to the other, as though it is about to charge. A flock of magpies scatters, then stands still, as though expecting to be protected. A swarm of centipedes scatters, then stands still again, as though expecting to be enveloped. A madman sits looking intently at a blank screen.

Unlimited scope.

A desire to know everything.

An intense need to know everything.