Of all the people who came before us, Magda, you were the only one who represented truth. I want you to know that. – Councilman Sadler.
Have you heard the old adage advising to always grow oleanders at your back door?” Nicci asked.
Really? A Confession flower. Why would it be called that? Because a confession is a revelation of the truth. Truth is pure. White is pure. Thus the name.
Surprise was their greatest weapon. He didn’t want to give it up without a very good reason.
Books were links that spanned such missing human bonds or even times of savagery and its resulting ages of ignorance.
I have to do this, Merrit. I trust you to take care with my life, but if I lose it in the attempt, then I will have died trying to save all life and I don’t want you to blame yourself. This is worth doing. I’d rather die trying to preserve the value of life than watch it all end because I failed to do what only I can.” – Magda Searus.
Books served to keep hard-won knowledge safe. They endured. Books could almost be immortal.
She remembered then what had been at the back of her mind. Barracus had told her that the veil to the world of the dead had glowed a strange green when he passed through it. He had told her that when he had gone through that green wall, that was how he knew that he had crossed over into the underworld. He had called it the green breadth of the spirits.
I understand, Lord Rahl. Find the wizard Zedd and the sorceress Nicci and get them out so that they can heal you of the death inside you so that you can end prophecy and end the threat to the world of life now that the barrier is down.
Chickens can move and flop for hours after their heads are cut off. They have no heartbeat either,” Naja said, “and that doesn’t involve magic.
Richard’s mind was filled with the flow and form of the dance with death, the way of a war wizard. He was lost in that dance he had come to know so well.
Your forces will try to use shields, but I can tell you from experience that shields don’t work. Shields key off life. They have nothing to latch on to with the dead.
The chicken thing let out a whispering cackle.
People’s heads are full of knowledge, facts, and beliefs, and most of it is false, yet they think it all true. People are stupid; they can only rarely tell the difference between a lie and the truth, and yet they are confident they can, and so are all the easier to fool.
You envisioned the idea of a Confessor for the right reasons. Life is truth. Truth is Life. You wanted a way to seek truth. Such a cause, in the promotion of life, is noble.
Killing is a terrible thing, too. I hate killing. But killing isn’t necessarily wrong.
I want you to use me to create a Confessor.
No self-respecting bird in good health would allow its feathers to look ruffled. No confident cougar would let its fur long remain matted and dirty.
If I was a nobody you wouldn’t be so eager to see me dead. Just like these people you know that I am devoted to the truth. That is why you want to eliminate me.” – Magda Searus.
Little things are a good place to start. Larger understanding is built on little things. We put those little things we learn together into larger concepts.