So this is the title of a sad story, by Michael Ende. For much of the book a world is disappearing in bits and pieces. There are pages and pages dealing with messengers arriving from many places of the globe reporting another piece of the world has just been lost.
"Ende," the author's name, means "end" in German. When my daughter read the book when she was maybe ten she got very upset..
I'm reminded of this sad story when I see images of glaciers falling apart and melting, when I see the continuation of senseless destruction of this planet and its beautiful inhabitants and think of the powerlessness we all feel.
I'm coming to think we are living part of the book, and there is no redeeming end in sight. Human foolishness is indeed a never-ending story.