“What is it about humans that make us so prone to prejudice?”Blue arches one of his unnaturally colored eyebrows and looks up to meet my gaze. “If we didn’t form prejudices, we wouldn’t be learning from our environment, you dolt. It’s an animal instinct. If a porcupine’s quill gets stuck in your hand once, you won’t be likely to go grabbing it again soon, right?”

“The inherent prejudice in unnaturally-produced nationalism causes a form of cultural blindness, which prevents us from seeing the obvious ways we could co-exist in the world as a co-operative human family.”

“If I died –” – Nick“Your father would have another child. That one won’t have your humanity. Your mother is what makes you special, Nick. Adarian’s next woman wouldn’t be her. His child wouldn’t be you. All of us are a culmination of vital parts of our parents and their pasts. A vital part of the circumstances we were raised with. Everything that happens to us, good and bad, leaves a lasting impression on our souls. You take one part of that out, and you can completely rewrite something crucial about us. By and large, we’re not shaped by the big things. It’s the little, day-to-day moments that make us who we are. Who we’re going to be.” – Nekoda”

“Anyway, here.” He handed me a bag. “Thought you might be hungry. Since you’re our guests, it would be impolite if we didn’t share our food with you. That’s your rations for the week. Try to make it last.” At my surprised look, he rolled his eyes. “Not all of us live on oil and electricity, you know.”“What about Ash and Puck?”“Well, I’m pretty sure eating our food won’t melt their insides to gooey paste. But you never know.” (Glitch)-----------------Puck sat and gazed mournfully into the bowl I handed him. “Not an apple slice to be found,” he sighed, picking through the gooey mess with his fingers. “How can mortals even pass this off as fruit? It’s like a peach farmer threw up in a bowl.”Ash picked up the spoon, gazing at it like it was an alien life form.”

“But Wine doesn’t make anything go away! When you bury a big memory it’s always still there, like an itch right down inside your bones where you can’t scratch it, or somebody walking a step behind you that you can’t look at. And . . . and if we didn’t remember things we wish we hadn’t done, wouldn’t we just run off and do them again?”

“I've learned something: What many of us cal destiny is really our own instinct. We know what is right, but we don'twant to admit it, especially if what is right will lead to our own death. We call it destiny so we don't have to accept responsibility for making those decisions. Human instinct is stronger than anyone will admit.”