Time Can Tick When There Is No

[...] So Important To Believe In A Concept Of Goodness, Even If We Make It Up Ourselves. We Don't Really Make It Up. It's There, Isn't It?" "oh, Yes, It's There," She Said. "it's There Because We Put It There.

You Have Made Me Ashamed Of The Wasted Years. You Have Made Me Acknowledge That No Darkness Has Ever Been Deep Enough To Extinguish My Personal Knowledge Of Love. And All Around Me In This World I See Evidence Of Love. I See Love. I See It In The Human Struggle. I See Its Undeniable Penetration In All That Humans Have Accomplished In Their Poetry, Their Painting, Their Music, Their Love Of One Another And Refusal To Accept Suffering As Their Lot.

And This Lesson About Mortal Peace Of Mind I Never Forgot. Even If A Ghost Is Ripping A House To Pieces, Throwing In Pans All Over, Pouring Water Of Pillows, Making Clocks Chime At All Hours, Mortal Will Accept Almost Any "natural Explanation" Offered, No Matter How Absurd, Rather Than The Obvious Supernatural One, For What Is Going On.

As They Die, The Ones We Love, We Lose Our Witnesses, Our Watchers, Those Who Know And Understand The Tiny Little Meaningless Patterns, Those Words Drawn In Water With A Stick. And There Is Nothing Left But The Endless Flow.

How Pathetic It Is To Describe These Things Which Can't Truly Be Described.