Words were power, words tried to change you, to shape bridges of longing that no one could ever really cross.

Eanna love us, Adaon preserve us, Morian guard our souls.

We must be what we are, or we become our enemies.

It is always difficult, even with the best will in the world, to look back a long way and see anything resembling the truth.

It was different, though, knowing something in your thoughts and then hearing it confirmed, made real, planted in the world like a tree

A hand fought best when it made a fist.

A hard truth: that courage can be without meaning or impact, need not be rewarded, or even known. The world has not been made in that way. Perhaps, however, within the self there might come a resonance, the awareness of having done something difficult, of having done . . . something.