But then, that was the problem with pretty toy stitches. When real life got hold of them, they always tore out.

The future looks a bit bleak to me.

All life produces waste. The act of living produces costs, hazards and disposal questions, and so the (Environment) Ministry has found itself in the center of all life, mitigating, guiding and policing the detritus of the average person along with investigating the infractions of the greedy and short-sighted, the ones who wish to make quick profits and trade on others' lives for it.

Of course, the more you read, the more you learn, and ultimately there is more information than you can ever use. The difficulty is that as an outsider, you know you're too ignorant for your own good, and so the urge to keep researching and *never* start writing is pretty strong.

We write dust epitaphs for our vanquished enemies and watch them blow away in the desert wind.

Knowledge is simply a terrible ocean we must cross, and hope that wisdom lies on the other side.

Debts are a heavy burden. Throw them off, and you walk free.