Change often makes accepted customs into crimes.
All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers; hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers.
Envy will merit, as its shade, pursue
The vanity of human life is like a river, constantly passing away, and yet constantly coming on.
Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn.
Fools admire, but men of sense approve.
Envy will merit as its shade pursue, But like a shadow, proves the substance true.
I have no reverence for any book that teaches a doctrine contrary to my reason; no reverence for any book that teaches a doctrine contrary to my heart; and, no matter how old it is, no matter how many have believed it, no matter how many have died on account of it, no matter how many live for it, I have no reverence for that book, and I am glad of it.
If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended, That you have but slumber'd here While these visions did appear.
I believe there need to be women visual in our every day landscape, working hard and doing their own thing, whether you like it or not, whether it's acceptable or not. . . I especially hope to inspire young women because often I feel like so much emphasis is put on how beautiful you are, and how thin you are, and not a lot of emphasis is put on what you can do and how smart you are. I'd like to change that, change the emphasis of what's important when looking at a woman.
Fireheart tensed, waiting for whatever had hunted down these apprentices to emerge from the trees and attack, but nothing stirred. Feeling as if his legs hardly belonged to him, he sprang down and stumbled across to Swiftpaw. The apprentice lay on his side, his legs splayed out. His black-and-white fur was torn, and his body was covered with dreadful wounds, ripped by teeth far bigger than any cat's. His jaws still snarled and his eyes glared. He was dead, and Fireheart could see that he had died fighting.