I Must Remember To Forgive Myself. Because

No Person Has Ever Held All The Power. There Must Be A Balance Between Chaos And Order, Dark And Light. With The Temple Magic Bound To You, The Realms Are No Longer In Balance. The Power Could Change You... And You Could Change The Magic.

But If We Are To Remain A Great Empire, We Must Have A Greater Understanding Of The Hearts And Minds Of Others.

The Glow Dies Down, And She's Standing At The End Of My Bed--the One Who's Been Following Me Around Leaving Feather Messages. I Take In The Torn Fishnets, Plaid Mini-kilt, Shiny, Riveted Breastplate With Leather Straps At The Sides And A Worn Great Temolo Decal Near The Left Shoulder. Her Wings Are A Crazy Black-and-white-checkered Pattern, Like They've Been Spray-painted At A Body Shop To Look Like Hipster Sneakers.

Everyone's Dying. A Little, Every Day. Make It Count.

You And I, We Must Carry On, Gemma. I Cannot Afford The Luxury Of Love. I Must Marry Well. And Now I Must Look After You. It Is My Duty." "if You Wish To Suffer, You Do So Of Your Own Free Will, Not On My Behalf. Or Father's Or Grandmama's Or Anyone's. You Are A Fine Physician, Thomas. Why Is That Not Enough?" "because It Isn't," He Says With A Rare Candor. "only This And The Hope Of Nothing More? A Quiet Respectability With No True Greatness Or Heroism In It, With Only My Reputation To Recommend Me. So You See, Gemma, You Are Not The Only One Who Cannot Rule Her Own Life.