It is the responsibility of the living to make meaningful the sacrifices of the dead.

Part of him wanted to weep... but his purpose was rigid within him. He felt he could not bend to gentleness without breaking.

Futility is the defining characteristic of life.

Everything dies, from the smallest blade of grass to the biggest galaxy.

In accepting the Gift you Honor the Giver

There is no life which does not possess its own importance, no life which may not be touched by greatness at any time -- Yes, be touched by greatness and have a hand in it. (from The Mirror of Her Dreams)

I respect my limitations, but I don't use them as an excuse.