Music’s a wood you walk through.
Two people who are a little bit deluded in each other's favour. That's what love is, isn't it?
One fine day a predatory world shall consume itself.
As for reading, I wish I had a magic door to a library where I could go in, read for days and days, and come back in the same minute I left. I'm still looking for the door.
The human world is made of stories, not people.
Oh, diplomacy ... it mops up war's spillages; legitimizes its outcomes; gives the strong state the means to impose its will on a weaker one, while saving its fleets and battalions for weightier opponents.