Rest enough for the individual man. Too much and too soon and we call it death. But for Man no rest and no ending. He must go on, conquest beyond conquest. First, this little planet and its winds and ways. And then all laws of mind and matter that restrain him. Then the planets about him. And at last, out across immensity to the stars. And when he has conquered all the deeps of space and all the mysteries of time, still he will be beginning.... Little animals. And if we're no more than animals we must snatch each little scrap of happiness, and live and suffer and pass, mattering no more than all the other animals do or have done. It is this, or that. All the universe or nothing. Which shall it be, Passworthy? Which shall it be?
