" All time is limited. All time is passing. As humanity builds straight walls on bending, bowing cliffs and along the lines of rolling hills, that time pases even faster, offended until it flees into the future, where straight lines sage, where angles bend and break and fall apart, where the softness, freed from its geometrical bindings, can finally run free. This, then, is the punishmen for those harsh lines, for those unforgiving angles: that humanity's time should run fast and hot and short (...) "

― Mira Grant , In the Shadow of Spindrift House