Your desire for vengeance will cause countless deaths, child,_ she said, pointing a crooked finger at Rhylie. __nnocents will be caught up in your maelstrom, their lives torn apart. People you have never met, and will never know will die beneath your shadow if you do not stop. You tear the galaxy asunder with each step you take towards Vorcia.

We're not in a fairytale story. This is not a movie. Scriptwriters don't write our fates. We do.

If I can keep writing just one good page a day, I will have 15 published novels in my expected lifetime. Tick, tick, tick...

It isn't fair, it isn't right," Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.

For the first time she realized she'd spent so much time mourning a world that had ended ages ago, hoping to resurrect it, that she'd never paid attention to what it was becoming. Or returning to again, now that it was unfettered. Where were the centaurs, she might have asked instead. Where were the gorgons, the furies, the giants and the gods?

The mind is a thing capable of destroying itself when deep grief sets in, and when left alone to muse over one__ misery, the most irreparable damage can be done. You need people to heal.