Voices perish But script survives. Littera scripta manet. Roman sages instruct us to write histories lest truth enter a compacter, number-crunched into a chi-square stat, or power-pointed into graphs, transformed into official Guideline tracts. Write stories of jealousy, zeal, and struggle with names, locations, temperatures, and odours. Read stories of Natasha, Emma, and Marcel with spleen, caress, deception, and remembrance. Art is long, but life is quickly fleeting. Write down your heart, and heed what you are reading.