A Man Could Get Used To Anything

He Stood There For A Moment Looking Around The Silent Room, Shaking His Head Slowly. All These Books, He Thought, The Residue Of A Planet’s Intellect, The Scrapings Of Futile Minds, The Leftovers, The Potpourri Of Artifacts That Had No Power To Save Men From Perishing.

Memory Was Such A Worthless Thing, Really. Nothing It Dealt With Was Attainable. It Was Concerned With Phantom Acts And Feelings, With All That Was Uncapturable Except In Thought. It Was Without Satisfaction.

…those Who’ve Marred Their Appearance In Any Way By Their Actions In Life Aren’t Forced To Witness That Marring. If They Were, They’d Become Self-conscious And Be Unable To Concentrate On Improving Themselves.

In A Typical Desperation For Quick Answers, Easily Understood, People Had Turned To Primitive Worship As The Solution. With Less Than Success. Not Only Had They Died As Quickly As The Rest Of The People, But They Had Died With Terror In Their Hearts, With A Mortal Dread Flowing In Their Very Veins.

To Me There Is Nothing That Goes Against Nature. If It Seems Incomprehensible, Its Only Because We Havent Been Able To Understand It Yet.