The Most Powerful Weapon Is Hope.

Real Life Is Not Quite As It Is In Stories. In The Old Tales, Bad Things Happen, And When The Tale Has Unfolded And Come To Its Triumphant Conclusion, It Is As If The Bad Things Had Never Been. Life Is Not As Simple As That, Not Quite.

I Do Not View Suicide As Wicked, Just Terribly Sad. There Is Only One Death, But It Is Like A Stone Cast Into A Pond - The Ripples Stretch Far. Such An Act Must Leave A Burden Of Sorrow, Guilt, Shame And Confusion On An Entire Family. A Natural Death, Such As My Father Suffered, Is Hard Enough To Deal With. A Decision To End One's Life Must Be Still More Devastating For Those Left Behind. I Cannot Imagine The Degree Of Hopelessness Someone Must Feel To Contemplate Such An Act.

Death, Of Course, Should Not Be Feared, But Awaited With Certain Wonder. To Die Was To Step Across A Threshold Into A New World, Unknown, Unimaginable.

In All Experience, There Is Something To Be Learned. In Deepest Sorrow, Wisdom Is Found. In The Well Of Despair, Hope Rises.

Only - Only That, If You Believe The Tales, It's In The Nature Of Our People To Go To War And To Kill, Just As It Is To Sing And Play And Tell Stories. Perhaps They Are Two Halves Of The Same Whole.