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One of the Academy Masters once said that nobody ever made a statue of a man running away. My answer to that is that very few living men get statues.
It is easy for a comfortable, free man to cry at the fall of every little bird. A prisoner in fear of his life has precious little regret to spare for anyone else.
Everything else would be between Midds and a God who was perhaps no better off Himself.
The cage of souls was empty, and all the souls had flown free.
