this mystery

If we could see. If we could read the Letter.
If, seated on high, amidst the authors of our destinies,
we could read the book of our life.
Which is written. Already written, finished.
But we shall never know our story. We are only characters in it.
And to think that there will be readers of our book.

Helene Cixous (taken from D. Allender's To be told)