That's the point, isn't it? We have to live on, no matter how hard it gets. We'll win in the end.

Stop moping, sule," galladon said with a grunt."It doesn't suit you-it takes a fine sense of pessimism to brood with any sort of respectability.

Sometimes the prize is not worth the costs. The means by which we achieve victory are as important as the victory itself.

You see, that is the sad, sorry, terrible thing about sarcasm. It's really funny.

Why did they believe? Because they saw miracles. Things one man took as chance, a man of faith took as a sign. A loved one recovering from disease, a fortunate business deal, a chance meeting with a long lost friend. It wasn't the grand doctrines or the sweeping ideals that seemed to make believers out of men. It was the simple magic in the world around them.

Yelling a battle cry—more to motivate himself than frighten his foes—Lukel grabbed the table leg and swung it at a soldier. The wood bounced off the man's helmet, but the blow was powerful enough to daze him, so Lukel followed it with a solid blow to the face. The soldier dropped and Lukel grabbed his weapon. Now he had a sword. He only wished he knew how to use it.

Sometimes it was daunting, knowing how easily I could break things. This one simple curse seemed to dominate my entire life.