First In , Last Out. Motto Of

The Future Can Ever Promise But One Thing And One Thing Only: Surprises.

If All We Seek Is An Escape, What Does That Say About The World We Live In? That Village, That City, That Life? We Are Desperate With Our Dreams. What - Oh, What - Does That Say?

The Wickans Know That The Gift Of Power Is Never Free. They Know Enough Not To Envy The Chosen Among Them, For Power Is Never A Game, Nor Are Glittering Standards Raised To Glory And Wealth. They Disguise Nothing In Trappings, And So We All See What We'd Rather Not, That Power Is Cruel, Hard As Iron And Bone, And Thrives On Destruction. ~ Deadhouse Gates

More Than One Philosopher Has Claimed That We Ever Remain Children, Far Beneath The Indurated Layers That Make Up The Armour Of Adulthood. Armour Encumbers, Restricts The Body And Soul Within It. But It Also Protects. Blows Are Blunted. Feelings Lose Their Edge, Leaving Us To Suffer Naught But A Plague Of Bruises, And, After A Time, Bruises Fade.

The Stars, They Are As The Sun. Each Star. Every Star. And Those Spheres- They Are Worlds, Realms, Each One Different Yet The Same.