There is life, behold it, various and infinite.

And hearken to the whisper of this great universe, one tiny note in that song of praise you heard but now.

Yes, the life dies, the ball grows black again; it is the carcase of a world.

How long have you watched it?
For an hour, a breath; but, as you judge time, some ten thousand million years.

Sleep now, you are weary; later you shall understand.
Thus the wraith of Stella spoke to his soul in visions.