Oh, poor Hera. You spilt your precious milk and it created the stars across the sky.

Others say that the bright line of stars across the sky (which, I have to admit, I have rarely seen, being a good city girl), is the Night’s backbone.

There is a poignant passage in one of the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy books where there is a planet that lies inside a black nebula and thus they don’t see stars. They are furious when one day a space ship lands. Why were they cheated in this way? Why were they exempt from this peculiar activity of lying on cold grass on a summer’s night, gazing upwards, dreaming, dreaming, dreaming.

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