The lesson of history is that no one learns.

For we are all bound in stories, and as the years pile up they turn to stone, layer upon layer, building our lives.

Any reasonable ruler would have the expectation and the demand the other way round.

Soldiers are issued armour for their flesh and bones, but they must fashion their own for their souls. Piece by piece.

We humans do not understand compassion. In each moment of our lives, we betray it. Aye, we know of its worth, yet in knowing we then attach to it a value, we guard the giving of it, believing it must be earned, T’lan Imass. Compassion is priceless in the truest sense of the wold. It must be given freely. In abundance.

The heart of wisdom is tolerance.

If all we seek is an escape, what does that say about the world we live in? That village, that city, that life? We are desperate with our dreams. What - oh, what - does that say?