I finished reading this book yesterday, and I sure am feeling gloomy and depressed today.

At what point does survival simply become "prolonging the inevitable"?

I couldn't harm my child (any child?) but would we want our children to live in a world of ash and cannibalism?

What if one were in a scenario like the one in this book, and you plummet off a cliff leaving your child alone? What if the cannibals don't bother to kill them before roasting them on the fire?

Sheesh. I want to be prepared, but it sure is hard to shake the "What's the point" mentality that this book gave me.