Blogis nėra negeri poelgiai, o tai, kaip bjauriai po to jautiesi.

Sometimes thought Liir-his first thought in weeks and weeks-sometimes I hate this marvelous land of ours. It’s so much like home, and then it holds out on you.

Cross a man and you struggle, one of you wins, you adjust and go on – or you lie there dead. Cross a woman and the universe is changed, once again, for cold anger requires...

Immortality is a chancy thing; it cannot be promised or earned. Perhaps it cannot even be identified for what it is.