Gods and men honor those who have fought in battle.

If cities have souls, Sanctuary's was troubled long before Tempus got here, and will be troubled long after he and his are gone.

Love sees all; hate is blind.

But she has found real love, and love can heal and save.

These warriors of the Sacred Band were inscrutable; they loved their war and death and picking through the bones of time to sort out right from wrong, good from bad, holy from profane, honor from dishonor.

Valor was in Nikodemos, unquestionable, and commitment like trees to stand or night to fall.

Don't blame yourself, or worry. Neither does a bit of good.