“At any rate, that being the case, why should I care if I lay under layers of rock the whole time? Why, as long as I’d been in this world already, should I care if my end came in another millennia, or a hundred of them? What sort of urgent business did I have in the world that I did not want to leave it? When I had spent my long time listening to fish, or staring at the stars? What was the point, what had ever been the point, in my constant, unconscious effort to keep that view of the stars? None except that I had wanted it. It had made things pleasant for me.”
Book:The Raven Tower
