Book: The promised land. Page 4

I splinter, which sometimes reflects the sun.

... are unhappy when a loved one dies, but not when it goes off, even for a long time, even forever.

To get away from him, you must know who you are. And so it turns out running around in a circle.

... This tribe, restless, short-lived, killing each other Wanderers in our globe sometimes still managed something that carries the illusion of eternity...