The greatest irony is this, good people are humble, hence they don’t make much noise, yet combined, their goodness is a tapestry of beauty, a mosaic of hundreds of millions of acts of goodness and kindness, creating a garden so spectacular it would stupefy the greatest horticulturist into sacred awe; yet evil, though each one is nosier than a teakettle, clamoring for their low self-esteem to garner any form of attention, and though because there are many such creatures, in unison they sound like a cacophony of banshees, in truth, each and every one is looking out for their OWN grandeur, hence after the night ends and the sun sheds light on who is good and evil, like melted snow, it will all suddenly dissipate forever.