That is the curse of lying, Sister. Once you place that crown of the liar upon your head, you can take it off again, but it leaves a stain for all time.
I've always said fantasy is sort of 'stealth philosophy'.
I felt like I'd been misplaced in the cosmos and I belonged in Maine.
Knowledge is a weapon. I intend to be formidably armed.
Celebrating faith over reason is merely a way of denying what is, in favor of embracing any whim that strikes your fancy.
His face set in grim determination, Richard slogged ahead, his fingers reaching up to touch the tooth under his shirt. Loneliness, deeper than he had never known, sagged his shoulders. All his friends were lost to him. He knew now that his life was not his own. It belonged to his duty, to his task. He was the Seeker. Nothing more. Nothing less. Not his own man, but a pawn to be used by others. A tool, same as his sword, to help others, that they might have the life he had only glimpsed for a twinkling. He was no different from the dark things in the boundary. A bringer of death.
