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for only what is known can be controlled.
The wise speaker learns first when to stay silent.
The food of fear is ignorance, Mother Gundring used to say. The death of fear is knowledge.
The fool strikes, she had said. The wise man smiles, and watches, and learns. Then strikes.
But enemies, as his mother used to say, are the price of success.
“If we had known the hardship of it, we might have chosen another.” “So it is with many choices.” “All we can do now is see it through.” “So it is with many choices.”
“Death waits for us all,” said Nothing. “But she takes the lazy first.”
“Pick your enemies more carefully than your friends,” Nothing was muttering at the flames. “They will be with you longer.”
Sell them what they want, Yarvi’s mother always said, not what you have.
And Yarvi brought Gorm’s eyes back to his with the honeyed tone his mother used to use, for men of violence thrive on rage but know not what to do with reason and good sense.
