The uncertainty of our future is nothing more than a fog of breath on a windowpane.

I'm going to eviscerate you and leave your organs on a pike in the yard as a warning to those who wear large jewelry.

There is no greater power on this earth than story.” Will paced the length of the room. “People think boundaries and borders build nations. Nonsense—words do. Beliefs, declarations, constitutions—words. Stories. Myths. Lies. Promises. History.” Will grabbed the sheaf of newspaper clippings he kept in a stack on his desk. “This, and these”—he gestured to the library’s teeming shelves—“they’re a testament to the country’s rich supernatural history.

But the past cannot be changed, and we carry our choices with us, forward, into the unknown. We can only move on.

All things are possible.

She's no beauty, mate

The night's chilly breath tickles up my neck and finds my ear, whispering secrets only the wind knows.