Chained upon the face of time, born to grow

and grown to die


You look so disconcerted...
You thought our talk would be different, didn't you?
Do you realize how foolish I find your insipid smile and your idiotic flirtatiousness?


A surprising number of human beings are without purpose, though it is probable that they are performing some function unknown to themselves


In those days, desires weren't allowed to become reality
So fantasy was substituted for them - films, books, pictures
They called it 'art'
But when your desires become reality, you don't need fantasy any longer, or art.


Without progress life would be unbearable
Progress has taken the place of Heaven


and don't let it worry your mind if I don't wake up no more, I've never slept before... it's gonna feel alright.


Look at yourself in the mirror
You are beautiful... but you have changed
These days you cast rapid, calculating, sidelong glances
Your gaze used to be direct, open, and without any disguise
Your mouth is an expression of discontent and hunger
It used only to be soft
Your complexion has become pallid, you use make-up
Your fine, broad forehead now has four creases above each eyebrow...
and this fine contour from the ear to the chin... it's no longer quite so evident
That's where complacency and indolence reside...
Look here, at the bridge of the nose, why do you sneer so often?
Beneath your eyes, those sharp, barely visible wrinkles of boredom and impatience


[last lines]
A: What are you thinking about?
B: I'm thinking about how happy I am


And the ship sails on