Octavia E. Butler

We give our dead
To the orchards
And the groves.
We give our dead
To life.

They had clearly feared turn-of-the-century irrationality—religious overzealousness on one side, destructive hedonism on the other, with both heated by ideological intolerance and corporate greed.

Overall, the Pox has had the effect of an installment-plan World War III. In fact, there were several small, bloody shooting wars going on around the world during the Pox. These were stupid affairs—wastes of life and treasure. They were fought, ostensibly, to defend against vicious foreign enemies. All too often, they were actually fought because inadequate leaders did not know what else to do. Such leaders knew that they could depend on fear, suspicion, hatred, need, and greed to arouse patriotic support for war.
Amid all this, somehow, the United States of America suffered a major, nonmilitary defeat. It lost no important war, yet it did not survive the Pox. Perhaps it simply lost sight of what it once intended to be, then blundered aimlessly until it exhausted itself.

I realize I don’t know very much. None of us knows very much. But we can all learn more. Then we can teach one another. We can stop denying reality or hoping it will go away by magic.

:Because we’ve said it

“It was an old passion,” he said. “I haven’t touched a violin for months. I didn’t know what that would be like.”
“What is it like?” she asked.
He began to walk so that she almost missed his answer. “An amputation,” he whispered.

When vision fails
Direction is lost. When direction is lost
Purpose may be forgotten. When purpose if forgotten
Emotion rules alone. When emotion rules alone,
Destruction...destruction.

When it comes to strangers with guns," I told her, "I think suspicion is more likely to keep you alive than trust.

He was surprised when I ignored him. He is wealthy and arrogant and used to being listened to even when what he says is nonsense—as it often is.

:And because we cannot admit

Dad decided not to vote for Donner after all. He didn’t vote for anyone. He said politicians turned his stomach.

:Thus, without thought,

:::your most precious treasures

Jarrett would be easier to take if he cared half as much about children’s bodies and minds as he pretends to care about their souls.

What were they saying?" Daly asked.
"They disapprove of your profession," Doro told him.
"Heathen savages," Daly muttered. "They're like animals. They're all cannibals."
"These aren't," Doro said, "though some of the their neighbors are."
"All of them," Daly insisted. "Just give them the chance." Doro smiled. "Well, no doubt the missionaries will reach them eventually and teach them to practice only symbolic cannibalism."
Daly jumped. He considered himself a pious man in spite of his work. "You shouldn't say such things," he whispered. "Not even you are beyond the reach of God."
"Spare me your mythology," Doro said, "and your righteous indignation." Daly had been Doro's man too long to be pampered in such matters. "At least we cannibals are honest about what we do," Doro continued. "We don't pretend as your slavers do to be acting for the benefit of our victims' souls. We don't tell ourselves we've caught them to teach them civilized religion.