Truth Casts A Spell Of Its Own.

Gemma, You See How It Is. They've Planned Our Entire Lives, From What We Shall Wear To Whom We Shall Marry And Where We Shall Live. It's One Lump Of Sugar In Your Tea Whether You Like It Or Not And You'd Best Smile Even If You're Dying Deep Inside. We're Like Pretty Horses, And Just As On Horses, They Mean To Put Blinders On Us So We Can't Look Left Or Right But Only Straight Ahead Where They Would Lead. Please, Please, Please, Gemma, Let's Not Die Inside Before We Have To.

For Once, Evie Didn’t Know What To Say. She Hadn’t Really Thought Of Her Uncle As Very Human. He Was More Like A Textbook Who Occasionally Remembered To Put On A Tie. But It Was Clear That He Was, Indeed, Human, With A Deep Wound Named Rotke.

In Our Travels, We Have Come Across Many Equations--math For Understanding The Universe, For Making Music, For Mapping Stars, And Also For Tipping, Which Is Important. Here Is Our Favorite Equation: Us Plus Them Equals All Of Us. It Is Very Simple Math. Try It Sometime. You Probably Won’t Even Need A Pencil.

He Told Me That Once, In The War, He’d Come Upon A German Soldier In The Grass With His Insides Falling Out; He Was Just Lying There In Agony. The Soldier Had Looked Up At Sergeant Leonard, And Even Though They Didn’t Speak The Same Language, They Understood Each Other With Just A Look. The German Lying On The Ground; The American Standing Over Him. He Put A Bullet In The Soldier’s Head. He Didn’t Do It With Anger, As An Enemy, But As A Fellow Man, One Soldier Helping Another.

To Those Who Will See, The World Waits.