The snow wasn't deep - in many places its crust was firm enough that they actually walked on top of it - but the wind was surgical, a precision instrument with needles for teeth, and it found even the tiniest exposed places on her skin, attacking them.
A life path may change because of important decisions or events. Those were what drove my current path.But sometimes the smallest event can also drive a turn. In the case of Eli Vanto, that force was a single, overheard word.Chiss. Where had Cadet Vanto heard that name? What did it mean to him? He had already spoken one reason, but there might well be others. Indeed, the full truth might have several layers. But what were they?On a ship as large as this, there was only one practical way to find out.Thus did my path take yet another turn. As, certainly, did his.
Thrawn
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A life path may change because of important decisions or events. Those were what drove my current path.But sometimes the smallest event can also drive a turn. In the case of Eli Vanto, that force was a single, overheard word.Chiss. Where had Cadet Vanto heard that name? What did it mean to him? He had already spoken one reason, but there might well be others. Indeed, the full truth might have several layers. But what were they?On a ship as large as this, there was only one practical way to find out.Thus did my path take yet another turn. As, certainly, did his.
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That was how evil magnified itself: it took root in the young and grew along with them.
Do we take less pride in the possession of our home because its walls were built by some unknown carpenter, its tapestries woven by some unknown weaver on a far Oriental shore, in some antique time? No. We show our home to our friends with the pride as if it were our home, which it is. Why then should we take less pride when reading a book written by some long-dead author? Is it not our book just as much, or even more so, than theirs? So the landowner says, __ook at my beautiful home! Isn__ it fine?_ And not, __ook at the home so-and-so has built._ Thus we shouldn__ cry, __ook what so-and-so has written. What a genius so-and-so is!_ But rather, __ook at what I have read! Am I not a genius? Have I not invented these pages? The walls of this universe, did I not build? The souls of these characters, did I not weave?
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Genius is a sovereign power; it forms schools; it lays hold on the spirits of men, with irresistible might; and it exercises an immeasurable influence on the whole condition of human life. This sovereignty of genius is a gift of God, possessed only by his grace. It is subject to no one and is responsible to him alone who has granted it this ascendancy.
...bow to genius, but to the authority of that genius - not the display of talent...