Death cuts off possibilities. Even if they were possibilities you never meant to act on, it feels differentwhen they’re gone.

Religion turned some folks belligerent.

Fear and bigotry don’t need explaining. They simply are, like traffic jams and taxes.

People always wanted someone to blame, didn't they?

Humans were peculiar. They were by turns squeamish and appallingly violent.

The dead weren’t scary. It was the living you had to watch out for.

Belief and hope, it seemed were not the same thing,....

How to put this feeling, this certainty, into something as limited as words?

When you slice the truth too thin, you deceive.

That makes about as much sense as lopping off your foot to avoid twisting an ankle.

Who wants to feel everything everyone else feels all the time?