Comment 5 of 5, added on August 9th, 2012 at 2:12 AM.
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Comment 3 of 5, added on March 2nd, 2008 at 6:09 PM.

. Imagine, after studying abroad, taking in the world around him, Williams needs time to reflect, so he sits next to the fireplace in his study one “icy” December night, deep in thought fueled by the silent embers of the roaring fire, when everything around him goes numb: The famous are “buried” and mourned, their works are reviewed and critiqued long after they die, the “fire” of their imaginations enlightening the “back yard”, younger generations willing to accept new knowledge, yet eventually every conceivable means of reflection has run its course and the “fleas,” the partisans that fed on the mystery behind those great works, are consumed by the earth. And the “fire dies” for no one is left to kindle it. Immortality is impossible.

Josh Mickle from United States