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We do not connect with mortals, in the same way as eternity does not wish to connect with time.
all disagreements, like all versions of time, circled each other, uncertain which was the line and which was the space through which the line was etched.
Who could tell what it meant? But it did reveal something that no archaeologist would be fully comfortable speculating about. It revealed an imagination that was both simple and sophisticated, that dealt in ambiguity and suggestion as well as clarity and directness.
“Because we must all know our place in the great scheme of things. We respect mystery and silence and spirit.
Just as I would not poison a field or a river, I would wish to do justice to the dead.
It was not what they did in war that made them proud of their past, they said. It was what they had done in peace. It was the art they made, the homage they paid to mystery and beauty. They offered tribute to strangeness because it was strangeness that they appreciated most in the world when they were alive. They saw the world’s meaning as beyond their grasp, and they relished not understanding it.
Thus, it was the strangeness of the night sky and the seasons that they loved and missed, the strangeness of fire and water, the strangeness they noted in each other.
His life had prepared him for everything, but not for death.
He seldom spoke, took part in none of their debates. By the way they listened when he did deign to speak, they made clear their reverence for him.
“We must not concern ourselves with the world that we have left,” he said. “We live outside of time.
