Sublime

The Inquisitor raised his axe to strike. She loves him.

“Why do you react with such horror? Don’t you wish this man dead for what he did to you? For capturing you, for beating you, for slashing your head open?” “Sure I do,” said Sancia. “Man’s a shit. But that doesn’t mean you’re decent. I mean, even though I might sympathize with you, that doesn’t mean you’re going to let me go, does it? I’d ruin your

“Motu et Lumine.” How apt. The motto from the Venetian fireplace looked simultaneously to her past and her future—and to her aim to live “with motion and light.”