Such Is The Vastness Of His Genius

Ambition Is Not A Dirty Word. Piss On Compromise. Go For The Throat.

Believe It Or Not, Friendships Are Difficult To Write In Fiction. They Can Easily Come Across As Forced, Particularly If They Involve Too Much Explication And Too Many Overt Gestures Of Affection.

The Wickans Know That The Gift Of Power Is Never Free. They Know Enough Not To Envy The Chosen Among Them, For Power Is Never A Game, Nor Are Glittering Standards Raised To Glory And Wealth. They Disguise Nothing In Trappings, And So We All See What We'd Rather Not, That Power Is Cruel, Hard As Iron And Bone, And Thrives On Destruction. ~ Deadhouse Gates

Ben Adaephon Delat," Pearl Said Plaintively, "see The Last Who Comes. You Send Me To My Death." "i Know," Quick Ben Whispered. "flee, Then. I Will Hold Them Enough To Ensure Your Escape No More." Quick Ben Sank Down Past The Roof. Before He Passed From Sight Pearl Spoke Again. "ben Adaephon Delat, Do You Pity Me?" "yes" He Replied Softly, Then Pivoted And Dropped Down Into Darkness.

More Than One Philosopher Has Claimed That We Ever Remain Children, Far Beneath The Indurated Layers That Make Up The Armour Of Adulthood. Armour Encumbers, Restricts The Body And Soul Within It. But It Also Protects. Blows Are Blunted. Feelings Lose Their Edge, Leaving Us To Suffer Naught But A Plague Of Bruises, And, After A Time, Bruises Fade.