But of all the animals, man holds the fate of the world in his hands.

Not stories told by wolf or man to frighten children, of Wolfbane and of werewolves, of grasht and goblins and of silly vampires, fables to frighten cowards with the threat of evil and of sin. But the power that lives beyond those stories, and makes them strong indeed, that lives in nightmares and in sleep. That is ribbed into the very fabric of conscious being. The power of love and hate.

Real courage is not to give up hope, even in the most terrible darkness, and to carry on. That if courage and love is deep as despair, deeper, then light may come again

But of all the animals, man holds the fate of the world in his hands.

You are not evil, Fell. You have just been robbed of love. Of light.

Death,' whispered Tarlar, 'you do not fear it, Fell? By water, or any other way?' 'What is to fear?" answered the black wolf. 'If it is an end, then so be it. For there is no pain in that, except the pain left to the living... And if death is not an end, then what more than a wonderful journey.

On his brow a leaf of oaken, Cangeling child shall be his fate. Understanding words strange spoken, Chased by anger, fear, and hate.