..while I was happy enough to pray to any god, knowing that they were simply different faces created by men, of one indivisible truth.
It's like a spell. It's so strong I can't fight it. Is love always like this?
Don't you know the man whose life you spare will always hate you?
How was it possible for the world to be so beautiful and so cruel at the same time?
Death comes suddenly and life is fragile and brief. No one can alter this either by prayers or spells.
When illusions are shattered by truth, talent is set free.