How much beauty do you think is enough for a life? And how is it that one measures beauty? And how must it be wrapped, and how shall it be doled out? The truth is that we've likely lived more than our share of beauty. More than most get to live, I mean. But our portion may not be used up. Let's risk it… It's time to stop being afraid… Stop practicing for death. The only way out of the maze is to take back our life.

Now they want to crush the poor as they were once crushed. Memory does not always arrive whole from its journeys across the generations.