If he must be alone, he would make solitude his armor.

There are no heroes...in life, the monsters win.

I need to sleep, but fear to dream.

And the mystery knight should defeat all challengers and name the wolf maid the queen of love and beauty.

The gods made our bodies as well as our souls, is it not so? They give us voices, so we might worship them with song. They give us hands, so we might build them temples. And they give us desire, so we might mate and worship them in that way.

He was beastly tired, but it was hard to stop. One more book, he had told himself, then I'll stop. One more folio, just one more. One more page, then I'll go up and rest and get a bite to eat. But there was always another page after that one, and another after that, and another book waiting underneath the pile. I'll just take a quick peek to see what this one is about, he'd think, and before he knew he would be halfway through it.

There is no creature on earth half so terrifying as a truly just man.