The lives God gives to us, the awful things we can’t escape from. Sometimes I think that sort of God would enjoy making hell for us after we die.
The sun does not abandon the moon to darkness.
Such a distant, forgotten thing, this Light.
With every fall of the sun and rise of the moon, I can hear it. The Prophecy. It echoes through the halls of time. It is written on the surface of every star. Even the sun and moon cannot withhold the news of the second coming. I hear it. And I fear ...
This was a Darkness born of fire.
Goodbyes are sad, but they are temporary, because as hellos ends with goodbyes, so will goodbyes start with hellos.
The rhythm of fraught footsteps and fervent heartbeat orchestrated a symphony of anticipation and dread.
Am I your weakness?" "Of course you are.
War is an infidel; it holds no loyalties, neither to king nor countryman. She is a whore, selling herself to the highest bidder. Victory is bought in blood and steel.
No one can force you to become a monster – you hurt someone and you create your own demons.
The threat of war hung on the air like a thick fog and it blinded him until he could see nothing beyond the haze. Even the stars grew faint.
The thing with do-overs it’s that they don’t exist. Second chances are just another chance to mess up.
