The power to destroy a thing is the absolute control over it. - Frank Herbert

Whirling silence settled around Jessica. Every fiber of her body accepted the fact that something profound had happened to it. She felt that she was a conscious mote, smaller than any subatomic particle, yet capable of motion and of sensing her surroundings. Like an abrupt revelation — the curtains whipped away — she realized she had become aware of a psychokinesthetic extension of herself. She was the mote, yet not the mote.

Seeing all the chattering faces, Paul was suddenly repelled by them. They were cheap masks locked on festering thoughts — voices gabbling to drown out the loud silence in every breast.

"We have eternity, beloved."
"You may have eternity. I have only now."
"But this is eternity."