epic-fantasy

It's death and destruction I want to bring down upon House Lannister, not scorn. Jon said.

She had no time for sleep, with the weight of the world upon her shoulders. And she feared to dream. Sleep is a little death, dreams the whisperings of the Other, who would drag us all into his eternal night.

Those who die never truly leave us. They are forever there beyond the shimmering of light at the edge of sight.

On the revelation that there are no gods or afterlife:-"I do not 'like' the truth any more than you Avil, or anyone. I wrestled with it for a long time, for a while I was distraught, desperate to find that my research had been wrong - the more I searched, the deeper I delved the more clear it became that the truth was what it is. After much reflection, I came to the conclusion that though accepting the truth is hard, moving on from that, it becomes clear that the important thing is to make the world we live in a better place. We get one life, it's our duty to make the most of it."~Brael Truthseeker of House KrazicDeathsworn Arc 2 : The Verkreath Horror

I remembered Nahadoth's lips on my throat and fought to suppress a shudder, only half succeeding. Death as a consequence of lying with a god wasn't something I had considered, but it did not surprise me. A mortal man's strength had its limits. He spent himself and slept. He could be a good lover, but even his best skills were only guesswork - for every caress that sent a woman's head into the clouds, he might try ten that brought her back to earth.

Hurricanes couldn__ remove you from my mind. You__e my world and I__ incapable of not loving you.

Lucifer unbound his absolutionHis purpose took unstoppable formA wyrm whose brilliance blindedTenacity burned as radiant as the AlmightyLucifer remembered this so vividlyA fond memory of when God stood thunderstruck

For the wanderer astray, the hermit seeking the lost booksTo him the bitter path of knowledge is truly germaneAnd to gaze at the grand canvas of depravity, the deified crooksAll the depth of duplicity of the celestial rulers most profane.

One can lose themselves in the twilight, when there are no colors to guide the way.

Dear Time,You're so beautiful when You stand still.