The corpses are piled high around. Blood carpets the floor and flames scorch away the last remnants of humanity. The screams of the damned echo in my head. I smile. I am home.
Banned for confusing me for about half a millisecond by your use of 'period' (it's just that I don't use that term...)
He's like fire and ice and rage. He's like the night and the storm and the heart of the sun. He's ancient and forever. He burns at the center of time and he can see the turn of the Universe. And ...he's wonderful.
Banned for being confused for about half a millisecond!
The corpses are piled high around. Blood carpets the floor and flames scorch away the last remnants of humanity. The screams of the damned echo in my head. I smile. I am home.
When we are children we seldom think of the future. This innocence leaves us free to enjoy ourselves as few adults can. The day we fret about the future is the day we leave our childhood behind. — Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
