"Elsewhere, stars are born. Other star systems - older, larger -
continue to breathe. The solar system dies of crib death. If that's
what it takes, then okay. If I must wait that long, then all right.
Because when I think of this, nothing is more desirable than the
hope of watching that last day when the sun flickers out, with you
beside me. We'll sit alone on a dark chunk of ice at the top of the
world, and the stars above, beyond and between us will never shine
brighter as we drift away into space."
