The writing of history is largely a process of diversion. Most historical accounts distract attention from the secret influences behind great events.

Here lies a toppled god. His fall was not a small one. We did but build his pedestal, A narrow and a tall one.

She looked at patches of blackness. Black is a blind remembering, she thought.

When you imagine mistakes, there can be no self-defense.

Balance is what distinguishs a people from a mob.

I have come to believe that holy boredom is good and sufficient reason for the invention of free will.

Hope clouds observation.