This was the way he had to go; he had no choice. He had never had any choice. He was only a dreamer.

«I am tired,» he said. «I did a lot today. That is, I did something. The only thing I have ever done. I pressed a button. It took the entire will power, the accumulated strength of my entire existence, to press one damned OFF button.»

«You have lived well,» the Alien said.

We all have forests on our minds. Forests unexplored, unending. Each one of us gets lost in the forest, every night, alone.

I am living in a nightmare, from which from time to time I wake in sleep.

Some dreams tell us what we wish to believe. Some dreams tell us what we fear. Some dreams are of what we know though we may not know we know it. The rarest dream is the dream that tells us what we have not known.

You don't speak of dreams as unreal. They exist. They leave a mark behind them.