Those candle flames were like the lives of men. So fragile. So deadly. Left alone, they lit and warmed. Let run rampant, they would destroy the very things they were meant to illuminate. Embryonic bonfires, each bearing a seed of destruction so potent it could tumble cities and dash kings to their knees.

Spook: No, I'm not troubled. In fact, I actually think everything is going to be all right. Finally.

The ways of Wayne are mysterious and incomprehensible.

I bring you a message from a friend of ours," she said quietly. "He wanted you to know that he's not dead. He can't be killed." "He is hope." The she raised the spear and rammed it directly into the Lord Ruler's heart.

Once one becomes a man, he can and must make his own decisions. But I do offer warning. Even a good thing can become destructive if taken to excess.

Raoden looked up at his friend. "We're not dead, Galladon, and we're not damned. We're just unfinished.

I have a smoke grenade in my room," I said. "What?" Megan asked. "How?" "I grew up working at a munitions plant," I said. "We mostly made rifles and handguns, but we worked with other factories. I got to pick up the occasional goody from the QC reject pile." "A smoke grenade is a goody?" Cody asked. I frowned. What did he mean? Of course it was. Who wouldn't want a smoke grenade when offered one?