In Accepting The Gift You Honor The

Gradually, The Night Stumbled As If Stunned And Wandering Aimlessly Into An Overcast Day -- Limped Through The Wilderland Of Transition As Though There Were No Knowing Where The Waste Of Darkness Ended And The Ashes Of Light Began. The Low Clouds Seemed Full Of Grief -- Tense And Uneasy With Accumulated Woe -- And Yet Affectless, Unable To Rain, As If The Air Clenched Itself Too Hard For Tears. And Through The Dawn, Atiaran And Covenant Moved Heavily, Unevenly, Like Pieces Of A Broken Lament.

Part Of Him Wanted To Weep... But His Purpose Was Rigid Within Him. He Felt He Could Not Bend To Gentleness Without Breaking.

It Is The Responsibility Of The Living To Make Meaningful The Sacrifices Of The Dead.

However You Look At It, In These Books "power" Tends To Be An Expression Of The Essential Nature Of The Person Or Being Whose Power It Is. On Those Occasions When We've Seen Lord Foul Act Directly, He Seems To Exert The Withering Force Of Pure Scorn. Imho, That's Pretty Intense.

Stone And Sea Are Deep In Life Two Unalterable Symbols Of The World Permanence At Rest And Permanence In Motion Participants In The Power That Remains