Ipslore relaxed a little. In a voice that was nearly normal, he said: "I don't regret it, you know. I would do it all again. Children are our hope for the future."
THERE IS NO HOPE FOR THE FUTURE, said Death.
"What does it contain, then?"
ME.
"Besides you, I mean!"
Death gave him a puzzled look. I'M SORRY?
The storm reached its howling peak overhead. A seagull went past backwards.
"I meant," said Ipslore bitterly, "what is there in this world that makes life worth living?"
Death thought about it.
CATS, he said eventually. CATS ARE NICE.
"Curse you!"
MANY HAVE, said Death, evenly.
Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
















