“For the young people could not talk. And why should they? Shout, embrace, swing, be up at dawn...”

“Your eyes are everything. (Maybe why some people give up on talking.)”

“It is on!" Aech shouted into his comlink. "it is on like Red Dawn!”

“So he was always in the town at one place or another, drinking, knocking about with the men he knew. It really wearied him. He talked to barmaids, to almost any woman, but there was that dark, strained look in his eyes, as if he were hunting something.Everything seemed so different, so unreal. There seemed no reason why people should go along the street, and houses pile up in the daylight. There seemed no reason why these things should occupy the space, instead of leaving it empty. His friends talked to him: he heard the sounds, and he answered. But why there should be the noise of speech he could not understand.”

“Why was it that they could never shout like that about something that mattered?”

“Shout for libraries. Shout for the young readers who use them.”