The Soul Knows No Greater Anguish Than

He Was A Man Who Would Never Ask For Sympathy. He Was A Man Who Sought Only To Do What Was Right. Such People Appear In The World, Every World, Now And Then, Like A Single Refrain Of Some Blessed Song, A Fragment Caught On The Spur Of An Otherwise Raging Cacophony. Imagine A World Without Such Souls. Yes, It Should Have Been Harder To Do.

More Than One Philosopher Has Claimed That We Ever Remain Children, Far Beneath The Indurated Layers That Make Up The Armour Of Adulthood. Armour Encumbers, Restricts The Body And Soul Within It. But It Also Protects. Blows Are Blunted. Feelings Lose Their Edge, Leaving Us To Suffer Naught But A Plague Of Bruises, And, After A Time, Bruises Fade.

The Lesson Of History Is That No One Learns.

The Only Death I Fear Is Dying Ignorant.

Betrayal Was The Greatest Of All Crimes, For It Took All That Was Human Within A Person And Made It A Thing Of Pain. In The Face Of That, Murder Itself Was Surcease: It Was Quick, And It Ended The Anguish And Despair Of A Life Without Hope.