We keep going, locked into our little umwelts, only occasionally remembering to look up.

There have been suggestions by a number of American neoconservative hawks to denuke Iran with “swift, massive, devastating force that decapitates the regime.

… I say. Ripton resumed the serious intonation, do you think they'll ever suspect us? What if they do? We must brunt it. We brunted the storm.

Our ancestors, who were forest dwellers, bequeathed us a legacy of wonder tales in which forests have a significant role […] One route would start from a refuge in a clearing. The path would set forth in a bright and optimistic manner. Difficult choices would appear. Divergent paths would become stony, enter dark woods and descend through sloughs of despond.