Draw a breath, a deep breath, now hold it, my friends, hold it long for the world the world drowns. - Steven Erikson

"Is that you?" came Shurq’s voice from the darkness within.
"Why yes," Bugg said, "it is."
"Liar. You’re not you, you’re Bugg. Where’s Tehol? I need to talk to Tehol."

Shadow is ever besieged, for that is its nature. Whilst darkness devours, and light steals. And so one sees shadow ever retreat to hidden places, only to return in the wake of the war between dark and light.

What held real value in this world? In any world? Friendship, the gifts of love and compassion. The honour one accorded the life of another person. None of this could be bought with wealth. It seemed to him such a simple truth. Yet he knew that its very banality was fuel for sneering cynicism and mockery. Until such things were taken away, until the price of their loss came to be personal, in some terrible, devastating arrival into one’s life. Only at that moment of profound extremity did the contempt wash down from that truth, revealing it bare, undeniable.