Our waking life's desire to shape the world to our convenience invites all manner of paradox and difficulty.

Borrowed time and borrowed world and borrowed eyes with which to sorrow it.

You go back home and everything you wished was different is still the same and everything you wished was the same is different.

The man smiled at him a sly smile. As if they knew a secret between them, these two. Something of age and youth and their claims and the justice of those claims. And of their claims upon them. The world past, the world to come. Their common transciencies. Above all a knowing deep in the bone that beauty and loss are one.

War was always here. Before man was, war waited for him. The ultimate trade awaiting its ultimate practitioner.

You have to carry the fire." I don't know how to." Yes, you do." Is the fire real? The fire?" Yes it is." Where is it? I don't know where it is." Yes you do. It's inside you. It always was there. I can see it.

If trouble comes when you least expect it then maybe the thing to do is to always expect it.