Shake Your Fist All You Want But

Civilization After Civilization, It Is The Same. The World Falls To Tyranny With A Whisper. The Frightened Are Ever Keen To Bow To A Perceived Necessity, In The Belief That Necessity Forces Conformity, And Conformity A Certain Stability. In A World Shaped Into Conformity, Dissidents Stand Out, Are Easily Branded And Dealt With. There Is No Multitude Of Perspectives, No Dialogue. The Victim Assumes The Face Of The Tyrant, Self-righteous And Intransigent, And Wars Breed Like Vermin. And People Die.

He Was Not A Modest Man. Contemplating Suicide, He Summoned A Dragon.' Gothos' Folly

The Only Consistent Narrative We Possess Is One That We Share With Every Other Life-form: We Are Born, We Live, And Then We Die.

When You've Burned The Bridges Behind You, Don't Go Starting A Fire On The One In Front Of You.

Death Cannot Be Struggled Against, Brother. It Ever Arrives, Defiant Of Every Hiding Place, Of Every Frantic Attempt To Escape. Death Is Every Mortal's Shadow, His True Shadow, And Time Is Its Servant, Spinning That Shadow Slowly Round, Until What Stretched Behind One Now Stretches Before Him.