New World Rising

Once I had opened a book and read its pages, those characters could never be taken away from me. Even if the books were burned, they would still live on in my mind.

If we keep punishing people for what their parents or their ancestors have done, the world as a whole can never move forward. Society will never grow.

That’s the funny thing about guns; even untrained hands can feel powerful using them. But take that gun away and you’re left with nothing but a coward whose only skill is how to blindly pull a trigger.

Even the most gentle people have a dark side you know." I was trying to warn him. "I know," he said handing me the other bowl of soup. "It's how you control that darkness that defines you.

There is no good or evil here, it all depends on what side you're standing. Nor is it about wrong or right, it's about surviving." Triven

In all of my adventures, nothing ever smelled quite like an old book.

With time, open wounds only fester, better to let them heal and forgive than to fester with hate.

Some things that are broken stay broken. There is no putting the pieces back together.

If destroying Hell meant partnering with the devil, that was a risk I was willing to take.

I know you’re scared. I’m scared too, all of the time. But I have been running for the last six years and I can’t run anymore. Our world is falling apart. We aren’t living, not really. We are just… surviving.