Some nights, one wants to tell beloveds everything that's been waiting to be said. Some nights, a man needs flesh and blood and warm breath and a loving heart.

You count up your dead, every one. Always. Recall them, each and all - every face, every heart.

He loves the world so much. I agree it would be a shame to take that love away from meadow and tree, stream and sky, and all that lives in nature, and leave them lonely.

We fouled up. I did. He got hurt. Badly, maybe. And the god...is not helping him today.

Your honor blinds you, Tempus, to what's right and wrong these days.

Everyone prepares for battle in his own way.

If, as you teach, the universe has no beginning and no end, why should we?