Love child!" What else? You will find it and lose it, again and again. And with each finding and each loss, you will become more than before. What you make of it is yours to choose.

Battle for the sake of honor may be a fine thing for bards to sing of, but it is no way to preserve one's homeland

Truly, it is in loss that we learn a thing's true value.

Pain redeems all. It is the awareness of life, a reminder of death.

Even a stunted tree reaches for sunlight.

It's funny how despair can soon become an old companion

A little truth seasons a lie like salt.