the failure of hope has a name: it is called suffering. - Steven Erikson

We are all pushed into a world of madness, yet it must now fall to each of us to pull back from this Abyss, to drag ourselves free of the descending spiral. From horror, grief must be fashioned, and from grief, compassion

The slave’s grin was hard with malice. ‘Damn you, Fear Sengar.’ ‘How did that offend you?’ ‘You just stated the central argument – both for and against the institution of slavery. I was wasted, was I? Or of necessity kept under firm heel. Too many people like me on the loose and no ruler, tyrant or otherwise, could sit assured on a throne. We would stir things up, again and again. We would challenge, we would protest, we would defy. By being enlightened, we would cause utter mayhem. So, Fear, kick another basket of fish over here, it’s better for everyone.’ ‘Except you.’ ‘No, even me. This way, all my brilliance remains ineffectual, harmless to anyone and therefore especially to myself, lest my lofty ideas loose a torrent of blood.’ Seren Pedac grunted, ‘You are frightened by your own ideas, Udinaas?’ ‘All the time, Acquitor. Aren’t you?

I’m sure they were good men, the ones you lost.” “Good at dying,” he said.