There was no one else to blame anymore. No Bores or Old Ladies or Nortons, or Assassins waiting at the bridge. And there was no place to hide-no place across any river for a boatman to take us.
Our life would be what we made of it-nothing more, nothing less.
Baboons.
Baboons.
They build their own cages, we could almost hear the Pigman whisper, as he took his children with him.

Author: Paul Zindel

There was no one else to blame anymore. No Bores or Old Ladies or Nortons, or Assassins waiting at the bridge. And there was no place to hide-no place across any river for a boatman to take us. <br /> Our life would be what we made of it-nothing more, nothing less.<br />Baboons.<br />Baboons.<br /> They build their own cages, we could almost hear the Pigman whisper, as he took his children with him. - Paul Zindel

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