Sublime

Government is never the solution, but it is almost always the problem.

atavistic

lucid

prosaic

“Defy reality,”

Everything is cracked, everything is stained except the fragile moments that hang crystalline in time and make life worth living.

We, you and I”—he touches my chest with the back of his index finger—“are dirty. We are made for blood. Rough hands. Dirty hearts. We are lesser creatures in the grand scheme of things, but without us men of war, no one except those of Lykos would hear Eo’s song. Without our rough hands, the dreams of the pure hearts would never be built.”