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Our lives are not in our bodies, but are distributed things, partly contained in us, partly in those persons and institutions which make up the landscape of our lives.
We met in the shadow of the funerary towers. Two figures in black. One wore the long coat of a military man, his dark hair streaked with white. The other wore the mandyas of a Swordmaster of the Fire School over her black tunic, red and gold.
“Much of the truth has ever been believed myth by most people, and much myth truth.”
It is vision. Vision and the heroic will to act. Where there is that vision, all else follows. Where it is not, there is decadence, desperation, and decay.