> Know that your worldscape is ashen,

>

> Its star husks long withered away,

>

> And the colours you've seen a kaleidoscope screen

>

> Erupting in fits from the grey.

>

>  

>

> Know that your world is a dreaming,

>

> Your starlight the winking of minds,

>

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>

> Their churning avulsion encodes the emulsion

>

> Of yearning and death that it binds.

>

>  

>

> Know that your shout is eternal,

>

> The scream of your life held within,

>

> Forevermore bound is that cold echoed sound

>

> That dies and rebirths in the din.

- Post-Collapse era liturgy, First Committee World.

> They say that the limit to luck is a curve that bends into forever. I say that there is no limit, buddy, because forever´s just a long fucking time.

- Substrate whisper, unknown provenance.