Things whispered here, and the trees muttered with the wind and perhaps with other things. Men knew the place was old, old as the world, and they nev… - C. J. Cherryh

So it fed him his courage back. He drew a deeper breath, reassessed himself and the pathetic ridiculousness, the childishness of the things stored in comp, the nature of the sealed compartments and the relics he lived among. So if she thought that, so if she felt that, then she would not laugh — and the others, these strangers they went to meet — she could handle. As long as she was with him; as long as she found nothing humorous in a man trying to be what he was not — who listened to voices instead of family, who had never had the strength to clear out all the debris of the past; who kept a secret voice that talked to a child who should have long ago grown up; excruciating things. A lifetime of illusions.

"Is that the end," asked Melein, "of all the races and the civilizations, and the dreams of the world, to be able to leave a few stones buried beneath the sands, to tell the Dark that we were here?"

damn, if we die, we die moving, don’t we, not sitting still and letting our lives fade out?