The one thing I am absolutely certain of is that we are going to be really sorry that we did what we did-to ourselves, to other forms of life, to the earth.
Melting watches just make good art: either we will be lying on parched, cracked ground, lubricated only by our own sweat, or trembling on frozen tundra until juices crystallize, and both landscapes will be layered with dead plants and animals. Interlacing fingers with another will prove inconsequential-there is nothing but great pain ahead. The world as we have forced it to become is a place wherein gods and monsters render their difference indistinguishable.