Her eyes filled with tears, but she said quietly, "I could die in peace, I think, if the world was beautiful. To know it's being ruined is hard."
Then, in the loss of all the world, when I might have said the words I had so long wanted to say, I could not say them. I saw that I was not going to be able to say them. I saw that I was not going to talk without crying, and so I cried.
She looked at me and held out her hand. She gave me the smile that I had never seen and will not see again in this world, and it covered me all over with light.
We sit silently and watch the world around us. This has taken us a lifetime to learn. It seems the old are more able to sit next to one another and not say anything and still feel content. The young are more impatient and usually break the silence. It is a waste; for silence is pure. Silence is holy. It draws people together because only those who are comfortable with each other can sit without speaking. This is a great paradox.