Jun 9
I often find a terrifying comfort in the possibility of evanescing. I never asked to exist. Or to be like this. This clumsy and fumbling congregation of flaws. I think there's something wrong with me. I can still feel an itch in my head, like Saturnyne's not quite done with me yet... Sometimes I'm able to convince myself that there's no such thing as kindness in this world. No such thing as courage. I tell myself there's only redemption and penitence. There is only reticence and pain. I am—thankfully—often wrong on such things.
Dr. Lorna Dane, X of Swords: Chapter 02
