Well here's some news for you, god, or gods: you can kill me, but until you do, you don't own me. I make my own choices, I go my own way. The storm will pass. The sand drops back down to the floor of the desert. And then you'll find out I was never sand at all, but a seed, and out of death I'll make life. You can't break me. And whatever plan you have in mind, you can't make me

God's hand is strange to us. He cares nothing for the moment, nothing for the feeble ambitions of men and women. He sees the road that flows onward forever

I wish I was as smart as Zeforah,' said Hamar, her voice drippingly sweet. 'She always knows just how much is enough

Each incapable of knowing the others virtue, because like all children they only wanted to be known, and cared little about giving that gift to others

There is no rope can strangle song And not for long death takes his toll. No prison bars can dim the stars Nor quicklime eat the living soul.

Once a man has tasted freedom he will never be content to be a slave. That is why I believe that this frightfulness we see everywhere today is only temporary. …

Let us pardon him his hope of a vain apocalypse, and of a second coming in great triumph upon the clouds of heaven. Perhaps these were the errors of others rat…