I had spared the stag's life. The power of that life belonged to me as surely as it belonged to the man who had taken it.
What is infinite? The universe and the greed of men.
Grief had its own life, took its own sustenance.
Anything worth doing always starts as a bad idea.
There’s no such thing as too much champagne. Though your head will try to tell you otherwise tomorrow.
There was something soothing about the crackle of paper, the smell of ink, and the soft scratching of nibs and brushes.