My world is not like yours, I think. I am a child of two three races. I remember seeing their natures, understanding their strengths and weaknesses, their hubris and pride. And I remember thinking that all things fit together, that there was a plan beyond anything that could be divined by a mortal mind. The intricacies are beautiful, unmanageable, and go on wholly without our notice or care.
But then, dear thing, I am only sane in my madness. Light already blinds me, my bones already pain me, and the thoughts of others once slid through my own, so there is little left knowledge can do. If you want to know, then you must also accept the cost.