"Imagine if each of these grew to be a maple. There should be no room in Vineland for us to stand between them. It's the same with mice or dandelions. Many more seeds and pups are dropped than may prosper. Otherwise we would be pressed like keepsakes among all the flora and fauna of this planet. Our saving grace, ladies and gentlemen, is what?" He watched mouths move in a silent chorus: Death. "Yes. Our salvation is the reaper. The mouse reaps the seed, the cat reaps the mouse. By its infinite means, death overpowers"