While the innocent yearned to lose their innocence, those who had already done so in turn envied the innocent, and knew grief in what they had lost. … - Steven Erikson

T'riss sat down opposite the Warden, her expression thoughtful. 'Is civilisation nothing but an illusion, then?'

He was asked, then, who was this Winged Grief? And Gallan said, 'There is but one left who would dare command me. One who would not weep and yet had taken into his soul a people's sorrow, a realm's sorrow. His name was Silchas Ruin.

She asks, and something in your head tells you that what she’s doing is right – and that it’s the only reason she has to live. She asked me to die defending her – knowing I didn’t even like her much. Quick, for the rest of my life, I will never forget that moment.’
‘And you still can’t quite work out what happened.’
The assassin nodded. ‘All at once, it’s as if she’s somehow laid bare your soul and there it is, exposed, trembling, vulnerable beyond all belief – and she could take it, grasp it tight until the blood starts dripping. She could even stab it right through. But she didn’t – she didn’t do any of that, Quick. She reached down, her finger hovered, and then … gone, as if that was all she needed.’
‘You can stop now,’ the wizard muttered. ‘What you’re talking about – between two people – it almost never happens. Maybe it’s what we all want, but Kalam, it almost never happens.’
‘There was no respect in what Laseen offered,’ the assassin said. ‘It was a raw bribe, reaching for the worst in me. But from Tavore …’
‘Nothing but respect. Now I see it, Kal. I see it.