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She knew that poverty could be a different kind of monster, always lurking and waiting to consume. For some, death was the kinder beast.
heron, a crocodile, a jackal, a serpent, a dove, and a hippo—icons of the gods’ familiars.
“Nightmares hunt like beasts of prey, vanquished in the light of day.”
Those beasts of prey represent our worldly troubles,” Brother Ugo explained. “Often, we run from painful things and hope that they will tire of chasing us. But in truth, avoiding our troubles simply gives them more sustenance, allowing them to eventually consume us whole. Only when we cast light on them and acknowledge them can they truly be vanquished, allowing our spirits to be free.”
“Destiny is not a single path, but many, Ekon. Some are as straight as an arrow, others twist and tangle like thread. Our duty is not to question them but to follow them.”
“A wise man keeps his weapons sharp, but his mind sharper.”
Nightmares hunt like beasts of prey .
It was as though the jungle was feverish, trying to sweat them out of its depths like a sickness.
Often, the beasts that lashed out the worst were also the ones hurting the worst.
“Maybe there’s a beauty in the scars,” she said. “Because they’re a reminder of what’s been faced, and what’s been survived.”
Too much. I’ve certainly heard words like that before. Too loud. Too strong. Too everything. I know I’m too much, but I don’t know how to be less.
“Just because a person dies doesn’t mean their impact does.
