In youth,' he said, speaking as if from a great distance, 'we believe, and the death of belief forces us to disavow all belief. But that disavowal, time softens, and if we do not believe, we hope. Belief is easier to kill, somehow, and its death easier to bear.

Hope is often bitter, but it drives us, and we cling.

It was true: hope could be unkind. You opened yourself up to the worst of wounds because you wanted to believe that something good could finally happen. But if you didn't? You missed this. This intense and prefect moment in which, while the world was almost literally going to hells all around you, hope and reality blended in a single, perfect note.

Lies were something you told other people to make things easier, somehow - hopefully, for them, but often more selfishly for yourself.

I don't make the laws, I just enforce them." "Then remind me to introduce a new set of laws, since the ones we have clearly assume a level of common sense that's lacking.

Is this some sort of test?" "Everything that doesn't kill you is." "Mind you," he added, "surviving doesn't always mean you passed.

I hate being the only mortal in a gathering full of Immortals who think killing each other cleverly is the height of good manners.