Everything is complex and everything is simple.
The rose has no why attached to it, it blooms because it blooms, know no
thought of itself, or desire to be seen.
What could be more complicated than a rose for someone who wants to understand
it? What could be simpler for someone who wants nothing?
The complexity of thinking, the simplicity of beholding.
- Andre Comte-Sponville, A Small Treatise on the Great Virtues, p. 150