Truth announces something about the history of the world, emerging within the current situation to which you or I—or both, and many more—belong, and from which others are either oblivious or excluded by us. We speak from the thread of history that both claims us and is claimed by us—a weaving of lifetimes where the visible page is, at best, an ephemeral fraction of the book. History, the seashore shaped by rhythmic tides and tireless waves.

In this history, we belong not by accident, but by a chain of recognition, each link forged in the fire of shared memory, negotiations and chosen allegiance. Here stand those who have read the unwritten lines, who know the silences as well as the sounds.

We are worlds guardians and inheritors, witnesses and shapers. We remember so that memory waves what the world once was—and may yet be again along the discontinuous continuous fragile trajectory of us.

True facts turn on the light, casting plenitude into the shade of nothingness, and dictating what demands our attention. Moon at midnight, amidst foggy shores and esfumatto landscape calls for patient and delicate receptivity.

True facts, produced in the elaborate fabric of science, law, or religion, resist—as mountains, stars, heroes and goddesses—the cycles of time. They provide the foundation of reality: the impermanent transcendence, the local universality, without which the conversations that vessel our matters of concern and matters of fact could lose their primordial unity, their entire ground, their voice in the universe.