You’re Loitering, Citizen.” “actually, I

One Day, Perhaps, You Will See For Yourself That Regrets Are As Nothing. The Value Lies In How They Are Answered.

Children Were Meant To Be Gifts. The Physical Manifestation Of Love Between A Man And A Woman. And For That Love All Manner Of Sacrifice Could Be Borne.

"tell Me, Tool, What Dominates Your Thoughts?" The Imass Shrugged Before Replying. "i Think Of Futility, Adjunct." "do All Imass Think About Futility?" "no. Few Think At All." "why Is That?" The Imass Leaned His Head To One Side And Regarded Her. "because, Adjunct, It Is Futile."

Survivors Do Not Mourn Together. They Each Mourn Alone, Even When In The Same Place. Grief Is The Most Solitary Of All Feelings. Grief Isolates, And Every Ritual, Every Gesture, Every Embrace, Is A Hopeless Effort To Break Through That Isolation. None Of It Works. The Forms Crumble And Dissolve. To Face Death Is To Stand Alone.

The Stars, They Are As The Sun. Each Star. Every Star. And Those Spheres- They Are Worlds, Realms, Each One Different Yet The Same.