We will push those crooks, those mercenaries back into the swamp.

Though I imagine we’re killing ourselves right now in all manner of ways that’ll seem insane to people in the future. And as doors to the next world go, a bog ain’t a bad choice....

To love a swamp, however, is to love what is muted and marginal, what exists in the shadows, what shoulders its way out of mud and scurries along the damp edges of what is most...

You’re all incredibly thoughtful souls who keep my head attached to my body.