Ah, Fist, it’s the curse of history that those who should read them, never do.

He was a man who would never ask for sympathy. He was a man who sought only to do what was right. Such people appear in the world, every world, now and then, like a single refrain of some blessed song, a fragment caught on the spur of an otherwise raging cacophony. Imagine a world without such souls. Yes, it should have been harder to do.

What matter the colour of the collar around a man's neck, if the chains linked to them were identical?

Paradise belonged to the innocent. Which was why it was and would ever remain empty. And that is what makes it a paradise.

All that we were has led us to where we are, but tells us little of where we’re going. Memories are a weight you can never shrug off.

Gods, I wish the world was full of passive women.He thougt for a moment longer, then scowled. On second thoughts, what a nightmare that'd be. It's the job of a man to fan the spark into flames, not quench it.

None could guess my confusion, my host of deluded illusions and elusive delusions! A mantle of marble hiding a crumbling core of sandstone. See how they stare at me, wondering, all wondering, at my secret wellspring of wisdom...' Let's kill him,' Crokus muttered, 'if only to put him out of our misery.