Scientifically speaking, life’s nothing but a series of chemical reactions. So, to accelerate or decelerate that process is of no great matter. It gives us that illusion of power in a life with little.
There is only one worthy goal for scientific exploration. Piercing the tissue that separates life from death.
When you transform a life, you’re making it anew. Whatever happens to that creature downstairs, we are responsible for it. It is our burden now. Every action builds another link that binds us to it. That chain is everlasting.
When we were in school we dreamed, you remember, of walking into the Royal Society together with our triumph of presenting our evidence with a glorious flourish. And how all those who had hated us, and laughed at us, would be silenced. And we, heroes both, would conquer the world and beat back death. I have conquered death. And have created monsters. None more so than the man who sits before you.
What is love but a kind of creature waiting to be unbound? A malady. What does it bring any of us but… confusion and bedevilment?