Stop. Wait. You've heard this before, yes? And besides, this is the middle of the story, not the beginning.
But isn't each moment of each day a new beginning? The universe is re-created every nanosecond on the line of time, each moment a beautiful, frozen jewel strung together on the necklace of eternity. And each jewel, each moment is just a tiny little bit different from the ones next to it, unique and beautiful and shining alone and understood by no one -- not philosophers, not particle physicists, maybe not even gods -- and in that way, they are like people, to. Like the three sisters, who are not really sisters.
So, let us begin again, as reality and time begins again at every moment, and I shall build for you the universe.
Once upon a time there were three beautiful not-sisters. There were all beautiful (except they were not) and they were all young (at least, compared to things like stars) and they were all three wise, because there is something about women that come in threes in the old tales that always makes them wise, or at least powerful.
To one was given a great store of patience. She could sit still in a crowd of angry monkeys and wait without flinch, their teeth tearing at her flesh, for the perfect opportunity to reach out and grab the leader by the neck and kill him with one single, crushing blow, and thus take control of the entire group. And this she did, except the crowd was not, in fact, composed of monkeys.
Another of the three not-sisters had within her such reserves of strength and will and determination as to humble the strongest survivor of any war. To break her and bend low her mighty and powerful strength would take to very will of the gods brought to bear on her back. And so it did happen.
The last not-sister held a capacity for love un-ending, un-dying, and passionate. Her smile was an explosion of light in the darkness of the world's despair, her glance enough to warm the coldest miser's heart, her touch enough to inspire eternal devotion and fierce love in even the black heart of an immortal who'd watched his world crumble to ashes and who'd thought his heart had turned to dust.
All in all, they were really three ordinary, unremarkable girls. All people have the seeds for greatness within themselves, but few allow those seeds to grow, and fewer still are given the opportunity to see those seeds flourish. Sometimes, it takes a crucible to start the process.
When the seeds are young, it takes dreams to make them grow. But to really become brillant, it takes pain. You knew that, did you not? After all, all the stories of the world are about pain. See the lovely necklace of moments that I wear around my neck? It is slowly strangling me. Oh look, you have one just like it!