Don't forget, Riddler, how I love thee. Or all we shared together. Or that this sea and all other seas can lead you back to me.

Survival has its own etiquette.

Wanting neither too much to live, nor too much to die.

Nothing he knew of, enunciated life like death.

The city guardsmen were like the keres, doom-bringers of merciless vengeance.

You must become like yourself.

Here and now was always where Tempus was, not off somewhere in the realm of Greater Good or Mortal Soul or Eternal Consequence. He'd lost the ability to determine greater good, if there was one; his mortal soul he'd given up on long ago. And as for eternal consequence - he was its embodiment.