Here we find further argument for Gotagga’s supposition that the world is round. How else could all men stand higher than their brothers?

I wanted a literate, socially intricate, and cosmopolitan world - something I could have fun destroying.

Sometimes the Nonman would climb upon some wild pulpit, the mossed remains of a fallen tree, the humped back of a boulder, and paint wonders with his dark voice. Wonders and horrors both.

Consequences lost all purchase when they became mad. And desperation, when pressed beyond anguish, became narcotic.

History. Language. Passion. Custom. All these things determine what men say, think, and do. These are the hidden puppet-strings from which all men hang.

Any fool can see the limits of seeing, but not even the wisest know the limits of knowing. Thus is ignorance rendered invisible, and are all Men made fools.

To indulge it is to breed it. To punish it is to feed it. Madness knows no bridle but the knife.