We Are Not Strangers To Ourselves, We

Too Much Mystery Is Merely An Annoyance. Too Much Adventure Is Exhausting. And A Little Terror Goes A Long Way.

Loyal Companions Are An Unequaled Grace, Stanching Fear Before It Bleeds You Numb, A Reliable Antidote For Creeping Despair.

For Some, The Past Is A Chain, Each Day A Link, Raveling Backward To One Ringbolt Or Another, In One Dark Place Or Another, And Tomorrow Is A Slave To Yesterday.

I Can Do What I Need To Do. I Can Get Where I Want To Go, No Matter How Hard It Is.

Loving The Ideal More Than The Reality Is The Cause Of All The Misery The Human Species Creates For Itself.