But all society resembles me.
However much one is known for wisdom,
But all men are liars.
We do not walk on paths of light,
We run after dreams of depravity.
Between the Indolent and the Choleric,
Between vanity and vice
One finds only by chance
The path to pure virtue.
It is found,--but how may we not blunder,
We, weak mortals, on that path,
Where reason itself stumbles
And must go after passions;
Where learned ignoramuses,
Like mist does to travellers, darken our minds?
Everywhere temptations and flattery live;
All pashas luxury oppresses.
Where does virtue live?
Where does the rose without thorns grow?
-Gavril Romanovich Derzhavin
"Hope doesn't live and die with this Garden."
"How is Camelot destroyed if you carry it in your hearts and minds? Is all you learned lost? Was it a waste of time?"
"Reach for something finer."
"Refosofi! Refosofi!"
"We are reaching...for each other"
Welcome to Tendred, come as you will... and when you will.
