When a Wanderess has been caged, or perched with her wings clipped, She lives like a Stoic, She lives most heroic, smiling with ruby, moistened lips once her cup of Death is welcome sipped.

The question is not whether or not change and challenge are going to happen. They are. The question is, when they do happen, how are we going to choose to look at them, contextualize them, and navigate them?

What happened when we died? How were we to know that death wasn't as profound an adventure as life was?

- __ow about flipping a coin;_ she made a pretty remark and the two women turned around andlooked at her irritated.- __hat's right, go ahead, jock about it. You are not the one trying to change her heart, I am, and youknow damn well how painful that can be!__and of Passion

I am as devoted to adventure now as then, and that__ never going to stop.

For my part, if a man must needs be a knave I would have him a debonair knave... It makes your sin no worse as I conceive, to do it _ la mode and stylishly.