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

Chaos needs no allies, for it dwells like a poison in every one of us.

I was needed, but I myself did not need. I had followers, but not allies, and only now do I understand the difference. And it is vast.

We are all lone souls. It pays to know humility, lest the delusion of control, of mastery, overwhelms. And, indeed, we seem a species prone to that delusion, again and ever again." ~Fiddler, pg. 558

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

I love you still, but with your death I succumbed to a kind of infatuation. I convinced myself that what you and I had, so very briefly, was of far vaster and deeper import than it truly was. Of all the weapons we chose to turn upon ourselves, guilt is the sharpest, Silverfox. It can carve one's own past into unrecognizable shapes, false memories leading to beliefs that sow all kinds of obsessions.

Ah, Meese has brought us her finest goblets! A moment, whilst Kruppe sweeps out cobwebs, insect husks and other assorted proofs of said goblets' treasured value.