In the self-important, Falco reflected, there is always room for a little more self-importance. — Ursula K. Le Guin

Nobody had made this wilderness, and there was no evil in it and no good; it simply was.

Why should he remember her? Why should she remember him? She had other things to think about. She was a grown woman. She had to face life. Even if all life had to show her was a locked door, and behind the locked door, no room.

Going was easy. Keep on going was hard.