There are patterns which emerge in one's life, circling and returning anew, an endless variation on a theme. So musicians say the greatest sonatas are composed; whether or not it is true, I do not know, but of a surety I have seen it emerge in the tapestry of my life.

We are meant to taste of life ... and drink the cup of it to the dregs, bitter and sweet alike.

But slight mistakes accumulate, and grow to gross errors if unchecked.

It is my observations, though, that happiness limits the amount of suffering one is willing to inflict upon others

For this too I learned, that a storyteller's tale may end, but history goes on always. These events, so distant in legend, play a part in shaping the very events we witness about us, each and every day.

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

I wondered if he could ever understand that it was a blessing, not a sin, to be graced with more than one love. It could be complicated; of course it could be complicated. And it opened one up to the possibility of more pain and loss. Still, it was a blessing I would never relinquish. Love, genuine love, was always a cause for joy.