You notice that he does not ask, Where am I?" says the Mayor's voice, moving out there, somewhere. "His first words are, Where is she? And his Noise says the same. Interesting.

Flakes of white fall thru the trees and onto the road, catching on our clothes and hair. It's a silent fall and it's weird how it makes everything else seem quiet, too, like it's trying to tell you a secret, a terrible, terrible secret.

even when peaceful cooperation is the obvious thing, the only thing that will keep any of us alive- There are still people who won't make that choice

War makes monsters out of men.

Life equals running and when we stop running maybe that's how we'll know life is finally finished.

War is like a monster," he says, almost to himself. "War is the devil. It starts and it consumes and it grows and grows and grows." He's looking at me now. "And otherwise normal men become monsters, too.

Guessing a thing ain't knowing a thing.