Maybe I'll learn how, but the only thing I can do is turn down parts that would hurt my conscience.
I don't think I've had a holiday in my entire life that wasn't about my dad's work.
The brain is the only kind of object capable of understanding that the cosmos is even there, or why there are infinitely many prime numbers, or that apples fall because of the curvature of space-time, or that obeying its own inborn instincts can be morally wrong, or that it itself exists.

