Guilt fades. Regret devours.

Just before the breath of life left him and all the world mourned, the Shepherd looked upon his flock from his elevated place and whispered, "I'll be back."

Individuality is the birth of creativity and the death of efficiency.

One knows the petals, another the thorns, but neither comprehends the rose.

Every truth is merely an interpretation for every mind is host to a reality unique. Realities beyond sense. Unless, of course, the reality is your own.

Wary of each other and blind to ourselves.

We all wear masks. We hide behind them. But most useful are they to us upon introspection. Avoid the blame, avoid the pain. It's not your fault; it was never really you.

Open your mind, shed your shell, lose yourself in sudden eternity, and find continuum beyond the horizon of our inevitable, inexorable finality.

We will weather the wrath, not wither, waste, or wane.

When mask born of distrust unveiled, spawns distrust anew.