mortals

Death is every mortal__ life to be alive!

I know they don__ respect the lives of others___ortals,_ he specified, __ho exist for a brief moment and then die off.__er voice rose as she argued with him. __ speak of people with very valued lives, Edgar. It may seem like a moment to you, but to me it is eternity.___hat makes no sense.___t makes perfect sense, Edgar! Life is valuable__eriod. And because mine can be easily taken away, it becomes even more valuable and precious. Yours, you take for granted because you__l never lose it. Mine, I cherish because it__ fleeting. For that reason alone I can argue that my life is of the greatest worth.__is eyebrows pulled together over a tangled scowl. She couldn__ tell if he was trying to understand her reasoning or if she had merely managed to upset him.__ever mind,_ she mumbled. __ don__ think you can appreciate what you__e never experienced.__hat works both ways, Amora.___hatever.

Surely you__e been sent from the heavens to teach us mortals what beauty is.

I hear nothing. I hear nothing, but what does it mean that I hear nothing? I walk in the cemeteries of this city at night and I hear nothing. I walk among mortals and sometimes I hear nothing. I walk alone and I hear nothing, as if I myself had no inner voice.

So there was love, once. More than love. And now there is more than hate. Mortals have no words for what we gods feel. Gods have no words for such things. But love like that doesn't just disappear, does it? No matter how powerful the hate, there is always love left, underneath. Horrible, isn't it?