These Are The Stories The Dogs Tell,

I Have Not Long To Live. I Have Lasted More Than A Man's Average Allotted Span, And While I Still Am Hale And Hearty, I Know Full Well The Hand Of Time , While It May Miss A Man At One Reaping, Will Get Him At The Next.

Here Lies One From A Distant Star, But The Soil Is Not Alien To Him, For In Death He Belongs To The Universe.

It Would Seem To Me That By The Time A Race Has Achieved Deep Space Capability It Would Have Matured To A Point Where It Would Have No Thought Of Dominating Another Intelligent Species.

If The Means Were Available, We Could Trace Our Ancestry - Yours And Mine - Back To The First Blob Of Life-like Material That Came Into Being On The Planet.

This Is The Very Center Of Everything There Is. A Huge Black Hole Eating Up The Galaxy. The End Of Everything.