Now the Fates are here on the beach, three shadows blacker than black, walking through the dunes and looking for their own. Just shadows, lamb-white hands beneath black robes spun of tears, glide among the celebrants on this night wherein the spirits of Thebes have found a home, if serendipitously.

The meaning of life, Nikodemos, is to live life with meaning. The purpose of life is merely to live it, perhaps to give it.

This fight coming is not a battle of weapons, but a battle of wills.

Live to fight on other days.

Generosity is never out of season.

I want to live like a man.

Nothing walks the earth more savage than a mare enraged.