monsters-of-men

THERE IT IS,_ my mother says, and what she means is that the dot we__e been nearing for weeks, the one that__ been growing into a larger dot with two smaller dots circling it, has now become even larger than that, growing from a dot to a disc, shining back the light from its sun, until you can see the blue of its oceans, the green of its forests, the white of its polar caps, a circle of colour against the black beyond.

What a sad thing men are. Can't do nothing good without being so weak we have to mess it up. Can't build something up without tearing it down.

I am stupid, am I not? What more can I want? If you ask them who is brave--who is true--who is just--who is it they would trust with their lives?--they would say, Tuan Jim. And yet they can never know the real, real truth....

There was one less monster on earth, and the world was certainly better off without him.