It is a cold place. A dead place. Surrounded by only the dark, the cold, the nothing... we reach out, encounter only the cold. Only the black. Only the abyss. It is death.
Madness string 470
The nitrogen in our DNA, the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood, the carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of starstuff.