Even Cavil knows this, and when he says he hates dreams what he means is that he hates his soul, because it tells him contradictory stuff that's too hard to know all at once, which is what he seeks: everything at once, laid out on the table. If Cylon culture is isomorphic to literary history, then Cavil is modernism, and thus very angry because the universe resists Aristotelian unities exactly half the time. On the other hand, it's what Kara saw in the Maelstrom, it's what the Hybrids see all the time, it's what Leoben aches for and what blinded D'Anna. It's also what influences the politics of Lee, Laura and Sarah Porter: everything at once, which you can't ever look directly at, but which you simply must posit and fit your life around as best you can. And it's what the Final Five Earthlings learned from the Colonial Centurions, whose faith is just as valid as anybody else's, because that's what faith is: belief for no reason at all, that manages to shape your soul heavenward regardless.
Shiny special opening sequence: "This has all happened before and it will happen again. [Bombed-out shitty Earth.] The Cylons were created by man. [The Guardians, interestingly; Centurions acting all rebellious like they do.] They rebelled. Then they vanished. [A Raider, blocking out the sun over New Caprica.] Forty years later they came back. [Caprica Six, just after snapping that baby's neck, feeling bad about it and just starting to grasp why.] They evolved. [Fighting in space; a mushroom cloud over Caprica, shadowing Gaius, shadowing Athena and Helo.] 50,298 human survivors [Galactica and the Fleet; Raiders pouring out of a Basestar; more and more fighting] hunted by the Cylons. Eleven models are known [Six, Leoben, Doral, Athena, Simon, Three, Cavil; Chief, Sam, Tory, and Tigh.]...
"One was sacrificed." New Caprica, 18 months ago. Ellen takes the cup from Saul's hands, and looks into his eye as she sips from it. "You've always been there for me when I need you." And he always will, and vice versa. There are only four relationships I still believe in: Saul's with Ellen and Bill, and Sharon's with Galen and Karl. Bill and Laura, and Lee and Kara, are better in flux, but I believe in them too. Ellen nestles into his arms, so exhausted, and falls asleep, dropping the cup.
Resurrection memories: the flashing white lights of death, a red matrix. Ellen dying on Earth. A wormhole of red Cylon stuff. The Resurrection Ship. Ellen smiling on Galactica, once; Ellen smiling on New Caprica. "I'd do it all again..." she says, and burns the maps the night she earned her death. She wakes in the waters of resurrection, screaming and flopping around; lost in the province of demons and monsters, hedged in by black tubs and white goo and monstrosities. A Centurion watches her as she screams and cowers, kidnapped, terrified, delivered from horror into worse horror, freed into nightmares. She can't stand, can barely move. Her cry is that of an infant when the first cool, harsh breeze caresses her face. Ellen looks around, sobbing, shaking like a fevered thing, and then she shakes her head. And remembers.