And I envied her that she had chosen her work herself and was doing what she wanted to do. I don't suppose I had any idea what I 'wanted' and so I was chosen, not choosing. There's glory and honor in being chosen. But not much room for free will.

But I have told the truth. Isn't that ironic? They sent me because I am so good at telling lies. But I have told the truth.

Must stop. This ink is amazing, it really doesn't smear, even when you cry on it

Hope is treacherous, but how can you live without it?

If you show this devious little liar one atom's worth of compassion I will have you shot.

Hope is the most treacherous thing in the world. It lifts you and lets you plummet. But as long as you're being lifted you don't worry about plummeting.

There’s glory and honour in being chosen. But not much room for free will