Seed

What a strange thing is the propagation of life! A bubble of seed which may be spilt in a whore’s lap, or in the orgasm of a voluptuous dream, might (for aught we know) have formed a Caesar or a Bonaparte – there is nothing remarkable recorded of their sires, that I know of…

‘What is a human being, then?’
‘A seed.’
‘A… seed?’
‘An acorn that is unafraid to destroy itself in growing into a tree’

You never know how many apples there are in a seed.