It occurred to me, trying not to hobble in my too-tight slippers, that attire was another form of concealment.
You should tell them, Joscelin said shortly. Tell them the truth. Fear and lies fester in darkness. The truth may wound, but it cuts clean.
It was small consolation, but it would have to do. I squeezed his hand once more, in lieu of things unsaid. Come on.
It went well enough at first. One need not be able to name a danger to sense and avoid it.
It wouldn’t last, of course. I had no illusions on that score. But while it did, I meant to relish every moment of the respite.
It's funny, how one can look back on a sorrow one thought one might well die of at the time, and know that one had not yet reckoned the tenth part of true grief.
It's the same questions we ask of our existence, and the answer is always the same. The mystery lies not in the question nor the answer, but in the asking and answering themselves, over and over again...
It’s not wise to trust a poet with one’s secrets, but it’s not wise to cross them, either,
Pride, desire, compassion, cleverness, belligerence, fruitfulness, loyalty… and guilt. But above it all stands love. And if we desire to be more than human, that is the star by which we must set our s...
Couples. Their duties done, they had eyes only for each other, locking glances and smiling deeply; two realms, two rulers, united in love and a shared dream. It
So I leave flowers; spring flowers, then summer flowers. I gather the red and orange and yellow trumpet flowers, for a trumpet is a thing that makes a loud noise like a shout, and I tie their vines to...
Let the warriors clamor after gods of blood and thunder; love is hard, harder than steel and thrice as cruel.
Life goes on even at the worst of times, and there are some ways no one ever grows up, no matter how long they live or how many lifetimes
Like a falling star, he descended on the Tarbh Cró, a Cassiline berserker, his sword biting and slashing like a silver snake.
There are others. There will be others. Other heroes, other heroines. Other prophecies to fulfill, other adversaries to despise. There will be stories told and forgotten, and reinvented anew until one...
There are many things wealth cannot buy, and most of those are enumerated by philosophers who have never woken wondering if this day would be their last.
Love child! What else? You will find it and lose it, again and again. And with each finding and each loss, you will become more than before. What you make of it is yours to choose.
Mercy and compassion are all the grace left to us.
Merely surviving without doing harm seemed chore enough.
We forgot, we made errors, argued ambiguities, and twisted meanings to suit our own ends. And in so doing, mayhap we reshaped the gods themselves. Now
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