And finally, I come to my conclusion: No architect, no matter how skilled and educated he might be, could create a new life from death as gallant or as complicated as mankind is—save for He Himself.
We might try, and we could perhaps craft a sorry representation that would be cumbersome in its movements, simple in its thoughts, and devoid of any sensible human emotion. Its complexion would be pale, the underlying circulatory systems disrupted in their smooth functioning, decay imminent. The wonders of the human mind and brain would be damaged—caused by the death of its original proprietor—the dislocated and corrupted electrical currents of this mysterious organ making the creature prone to headaches, inexplicable fits of rage, and outbursts of violence. It would be incapable of love, exce
