But Manue Nanti still sat on the ground, his head sunk low, desperately trying to gasp a little of the wind he had made, the wind out of the ground, the wind of the future. [The supervisor] said nothing for a moment as he watched Manue’s desperate Gethsemane.
“Some sow, others reap,” he said.
“Why?” the Peruvian choked.
The supervisor shrugged. “What’s the difference? But if you can’t be both, which would you rather be?”
—Walter M. Miller, Jr, “Crucifixus Etiam”