A labyrinth, when it is big enough, is just the world.
And it's the wonders I'm after, even if I have to bleed for them.
It's Latin, which is an excellent language for mischief-making, which is why governments are so fond of it.
We all live inside the terrible engine of authority, and it grinds and shrieks and burns so that no one will say: lines on maps are silly.
She was beautiful and terrifying, savage and pure.
Perhaps all a Tsaritsa is is a beautiful cold girl in the snow, looking down at someone wretched, and not yielding.