Not Even The Lichen Of The Tundra

Soldiers Are Issued Armour For Their Flesh And Bones, But They Must Fashion Their Own For Their Souls. Piece By Piece.

Civilization After Civilization, It Is The Same. The World Falls To Tyranny With A Whisper. The Frightened Are Ever Keen To Bow To A Perceived Necessity, In The Belief That Necessity Forces Conformity, And Conformity A Certain Stability. In A World Shaped Into Conformity, Dissidents Stand Out, Are Easily Branded And Dealt With. There Is No Multitude Of Perspectives, No Dialogue. The Victim Assumes The Face Of The Tyrant, Self-righteous And Intransigent, And Wars Breed Like Vermin. And People Die.

Ambition Is Not A Dirty Word. Piss On Compromise. Go For The Throat.

A Civilization Can Easily Drown In What It Knows As In What Doesn't Know. Consider,' He Continued, Gotho's Folly. Gotho's Curse Was In Being Too Aware - Of Everything. Every Permutation, Every Potential. Enough To Poison Every Scan He Cast On The World. It Availed Him Naught, And Worse, He Was Aware Of Even That.

Ah, Meese Has Brought Us Her Finest Goblets! A Moment, Whilst Kruppe Sweeps Out Cobwebs, Insect Husks And Other Assorted Proofs Of Said Goblets' Treasured Value.