The words of his mouth were smoother than butter, but war was in his heart: his words were softer than oil, yet were they drawn swords.


May our talents never exceed our virtue.

You must forge your own path for it to mean anything.

You are going to break your promise. I understand. And I hold my hands over the ears of my heart, so that I will not hate you.

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum - I am here, but you are gone, I remember you, so you are eternal.