He lifted up another card and set it down before him. 'Priest of Life, hah, now that's a good one. Game's done.' 'Who wins?' the Adjunct, her face pa… - Steven Erikson

The affliction was too insipid, too much a product of our surrendering mindful regard and diligence. The meanings of words lost their precision – and no-one bothered taking to task those who cynically abused those words to serve their own ambitions, their own evasion of personal responsibility. Lies went unchallenged, lawful pursuit became a sham, vulnerable to graft, and justice itself became a commodity, mutable in imbalance. Truth was lost, a chimera reshaped to match agenda, prejudices, thus consigning the entire political process to a mummer’s charade of false indignation, hypocritical posturing and a pervasive contempt for the commonry.

He had nowhere to look for answers, and he was tired of asking questions.

Do I want you to talk to me, old friend? Do I need your reminders, your wry confirmation that faith is for fools?