Wrong life is like polluted air no one can stop it entering  his lungs. No matter how much we try to prevent the intrusive forces of situation from penetrating our intimate circles, all that will be to no avail. We have no choice but to resist, to persist.
In Grimpen, we meet again.
Saleh Najafi

In my beginning is my end. In succession\ Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,\Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place\Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.\Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,\Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth\
Which is already flesh, fur and faeces,\Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.

T.S. Eliot, “Four Quartets”