Sometimes, we decide that it is not worth the bother. It speaks much of us just when we decide that that is the case in something we do, or take care of. I look at the world, and then I wonder at God, thinking about just this consideration. The infinitesimal detail of all that exists, for we are made of smaller parts, and those of smaller parts still, all in some sort of elaborate harmonics that make us and everything else be and do: there is no end to the intricacy of what has been created. For all that is, God decided that it was all of it worth the bother, the most trivial of trivialities; all of even the most useless (seemingly) things have no lack of complexity to them. This is what is meant by the creation speaking of its creator, more than all the words ever written, and all I might do is point a feeble finger at what I see of this profound and mighty universe.