“Why are they so sad?” I asked.“Well, they’re dead,” Carter speculated.”

“They know they’ve won,” Carter guessed. “They’re making a show of it.”“Yes,” Amos said.“Well, let’s blow up the boats or something!” I said.Amos looked at me. “Is that your strategy, honestly?”

“[Carter just asked when I became a ram whisperer. Do shut up, Carter]”

“I was sorry to have my name mentioned as one of the great authors, because they have a sad habit of dying off. Chaucer is dead, Spencer is dead, so is Milton, so is Shakespeare, and I’m not feeling so well myself.”

“From MARS Volume 3 by Fuyumi Soryo:Kira: “Why do you go through all that just to race? I guess asking that is the same thing as asking why I draw….probably because I’m alive….that’s all there is to it. I sense colors in you. They’re strong and beautiful….and sad. I wondered what your colors were for a long time. They’re the colors of the sunset…the blazing shades of a sunset that burn just before the darkness sets in. You said it was nothing, but there’s no one as alive as you.”

“All is going well, very well, I couldn’t ask for anything better—So why do I hate my life?”