Will there be any begetting in the next world? Will there be any romance? Or will people just hang around forever and love a universe that is so pure and so good that no one needs children in order to know what love is? How strange and sad our world will seem to them then—if they even find out about it—that we once had to create people with our own bodies, in order for there to be, among the billions of people already living, someone who could love us, and someone we could love in return.
