This is going to take a while. I'm a fantasy author. We have trouble with the concept of brevity.

What is belief - what is faith - if you don't continue it after failure?

We were like deaf people trying to dance to a beat we couldn't hear, long after the music actually stopped.

You're wonderful. So full of life and excitement. The priests and servants of the palace, they wear colors, but there's no color inside of them. They just go about their duties, eyes down, solemn. You've got color on the inside, so much of it that it bursts out and colors everything around you.

Lately, I feel like my life is a book written in a language I don't know how to read.

I like words. And I always learn a few new ones when Father gets angry. I shouldn't neglect my education, now should I?

Men rarely see their own actions as unjustified.