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The point is there are no villains in this story, or maybe there are no heroes.
Could you argue that Atlas Blakely has never let an honest word pass his lips? You could. Nobody would stop you, least of all him.
I shouldn’t have asked for power when what I really wanted was meaning.
Within every human being is the power to see the world as it is and still be compelled to save it.
His eyes were blue, prophetic, sorry. Dark with anger, with purpose, with rage, like blood splashed artlessly across a set of ancient wards.
Her writing is so beautiful
