Tilly screamed. Anna__ shocked brain only registered annoyance at the sound. Really, when had someone screaming ever solved a problem? She recognized her fixation on this irritation as her own way of avoiding the horror in front of her, but only in a distant and dreamy sort of way.
He'd turned away from a life on basic to live in the stars, or if not the stars, at least the rocks that floated free in the night sky.
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He'd turned away from a life on basic to live in the stars, or if not the stars, at least the rocks that floated free in the night sky.
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Cold comradeship do stars provide.They light the closer, inner sideOf night's vast weight, which, chill and clear,Pulls on us like some puppeteer.Its unseen threads to heads and heartsAttached, it acts us through our parts,From birth's first cry to bent old age,Upon our distant, tiny stage.
There is no shortage of fault to be found amidst our stars.
There is not shortage of fault to be found amidst our stars.
To be angry at the gods is to scream at the stars. Even if they hear, they will not stop shining.
And the geography of the thing--the geography of them--was completely and hopelessly wrong.