He looked back at her. "I am bummed out about it, but there's nothing I can do about it, now is there?" he said, putting some pressure on the second I, trying to point out he didn't need her help and that he worked alone. He placed his other hand's fingers onto the crack betweentwo brick on the house next to them and swung himself up to a window, where he took a better grip and from there he pushed himself first towards the building now behind him, on the other side of the alleyway, and then kicked his feet off with a delay on his left leg so he could twist around in the air easier. His hands took a grip of the edge of the roof of the building and he swung himself up. He truly looked like a cat when he climbed the wall. That was the perfection after over 300 years of training, and he still got better at it
"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance,
the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe,
are challenged by this point of pale light.
Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."
- Carl Sagan