It's what you do to yourself when you go mad with rage. You have no idea how much you can hurt yourself with your own strength.

Don't you know the man whose life you spare will always hate you?

It's like a spell. It's so strong I can't fight it. Is love always like this?

But just as the river is always at the door, so is the world always outside. And it is in the world that we have to live.

..while I was happy enough to pray to any god, knowing that they were simply different faces created by men, of one indivisible truth.

I am not made for despair

I miss the days when I was alone with my characters and no one else knew them except me.