Then at the top of the hill, the road forks. Which just figures. "You gotta be kidding." I say. One part of the road goes left, the other goes right. (Well, it's a "Fork" ain't it?)

In this world of numbness and information overload, the ability to feel, my boy, is a rare gift indeed.

Librarians are tour-guides for all of knowledge.

It was solitude, but it was solitude that wasn't lonely. Solitude that could sort things out. And he hadn't had that in ages.

You can't say everything, so you don't say nothing.

A monster, I think, remembering what Ben told me once. War makes Monsters of Men.

And too much informayshun can drive a man mad. Too much informayshun becomes just Noise. And it never, never stops.