’Tis colder outside than a well-born maiden’s heart. - Poul Anderson

Better a life like a falling star, bright across the dark, than a deathlessness which can see naught above or beyond itself.

The old man murmured: “Aye, we draw to an end. Dying hurts. Nonetheless the forefathers were wise who in their myths made Nan coequal with Lesu. A thing which endured forever would become unendurable. Death opens a way, for peoples as well as for people.”

Here was more than a question of law; it was a matter of whose will should prevail.