Take this sword and throw it far
Let it shine under the morning star
Memory’s unreliable
the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few
I know now why you cry. But it’s something I can never do.
Baby, You Make Me Wish I Had Three Hands.
… if this is your army, why does it go?
When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives
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