Night breeds its own sort of anticipation.

Love is hard, harder than steel and thrice as cruel. It is inexorable as the tides, and life and death alike follow in its wake.

Happiness is the highest form of wisdom.

Yes my lord, but questions are dangerous, for they have answers

I had begun to think my ripening body would wither untasted on the vine.

Soon never comes soon enough to a young child.

I preferred a hard truth to a well-meant lie.