Our age is full of certainties, and louder still are the voices pretending to certainty. Politicians speak as if their visions were inevitable, scientists sometimes as if their models were complete, prophets as if their words were final. Yet beneath the surface of all this firmness runs a tremor: the vastness of what we do not know. We do not know who we are, where we come from, where we are going. We do not know what life is, what death is, what love is, what truth is. We do not know what the universe is, or whether there is something beyond it.
This book is not written against knowledge. It is written against the illusion that knowledge is complete. It is written for those who feel the hollow echo after every explanation, the haunting presence of something larger, something unsolved, something infinite.