Most gulls don't bother to learn more than the simplest facts of flight - how to get from shore to food and back again

Good and evil are not what our parents told us, not what our church tells us, or our country, not what anybody else tells us! All of us decide good and evil for ourselves, automatically, by choosing what we want to do!

My airplane is quiet, and for a moment still an alien, still a stranger to the ground, I am home.

You choose, you live the consequences. Every yes, no, maybe, creates the school you call your personal experience.

You'd chosen to be an upright biped on the surface of a small planet of a minor sun on the edge of a minor galaxy of one of the multiple trillions of universes. That's OK. It doesn't matter what form you take.

For most gulls it was not flying that matters, but eating. For this gull, though, it was not eating that mattered, but flight.

Here's how the people live here, in big house-shaped boxes to keep off 'rain' and 'snow,' holes cut in the sides so they can see out. They move around in smaller boxes, painted different colours, with wheels on the corners. They need this box-culture because each person thinks of herself and himself as locked in a box called a 'body,' arms and legs, fingers to move pencils and tools, languages because they've forgotten how to communicate, eyes because they've forgotten how to see. Odd little planet. Wish you were here. Home soon.