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When I had first crossed the Bridge of Hopes, I had thought that my life could not have gotten much more complicated. How little I had known, and how much I still had to learn. Life was far more complex than a game of plaques, yet in life, as in plaques, there were those who played and who were played. I had learned something from it all, though, that in the game of life, you had to know when you were the player and when you were the plaque, because each role demanded a different response, and anyone who thought he or she would always be the player was a fool.
