No Purer Artist Exists Or Has Ever

I Warn You All, Hatred Is Finding Fertile Soil Within Me. And In Your Compassion, In Your Every Good Intention, You Nurture It.

Power Is Violence, Its Promise, Its Deed. Power Cares Nothing For Reason, Nothing For Justice, Nothing For Compassion. It Is, In Fact, The Singular Abnegation Of These Things - Once The Cloak Of Deceits Is Stripped Away, This One Truth Is Revealed.

We Humans Do Not Understand Compassion. In Each Moment Of Our Lives, We Betray It. Aye, We Know Of Its Worth, Yet In Knowing We Then Attach To It A Value, We Guard The Giving Of It, Believing It Must Be Earned, T’lan Imass. Compassion Is Priceless In The Truest Sense Of The Wold. It Must Be Given Freely. In Abundance.

Curious,” Bauchelain Said. “what Is It You Wish Us To Do For You?” “usurp The King,” Imid Factalo Said. “usurp, As In Depose.” “right.” “depose, As In Remove.” “yes.” “remove, As In Kill.

You’re Loitering, Citizen.” “actually, I Was Hesitating.