Second Sight Is Redundant To Reason Anyway.

What You Are Is A Question Only You Can Answer.

Since No One Is Perfect, It Follows That All Great Deeds Have Been Accomplished Out Of Imperfection. Yet They Were Accomplished, Somehow, All The Same.

When The Souls Rise Up In Glory, Yours Shall Not Be Shunned Nor Sunderered, But Shall Be The Prize Of The Gods' Gardens. Even Your Darkness Shall Be Treasured Then, And All Your Pain Made Holy.

My Dinner Party,' Miles Grated. 'it's Just Breaking Up.' And Sinking. All Souls Feared Lost.

War Is Not Its Own End, Except In Some Catastrophic Slide Into Absolute Damnation. It's Peace That's Wanted. Some Better Peace Than The One You Started With.