Men made wagers with their judgment, their allegiances, their resources.

Weariness, sometimes more than anything else, can bring an end to war.

Irritation for some men was their response to strain.

There was some sadness in how that could happen, Tai thought: falling out of love with something that had shaped you. Or even people who had? But if you didn't change at least a little, where were the passages of a life? Didn't learning, changing, sometimes mean letting go of what had once been seen as true?

We salvage what we can, what truly matters to us, even at the gates of despair.

But if you couldn't do everything, did that mean you did nothing?

What man would dare believe that all he planned might come to pass?