Reasons never matter, once Death comes cold and bold and takes the living by the hand. You count up your dead, every one.
Only so much can be borne from men, so much from gods
You've been playing gods-and-witches again, that's clear.
Old enough to kill means old enough to die
I'm going to kill that god of yours, next. Then we'll see what you can do, and what you can't.
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.