“You’ve seen many worlds,” the young man said dreamily, trying to conceive of it. “Too many,” said the older man. “I’m forty, by your years; but I was born a hundred and forty years ago. A hundred years I’ve lost without living them, between the worlds. If I went back to Davenant or Earth, the men and women I knew would be a hundred years dead. I can only go on; or stop, somewhere—
