SENTENCE STARTERS FROM 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍'𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐌𝐀
You place me in ill company.
Fantasies of death and redemption concern me not one whit.
Tell me then, why has your lord father not sent your brother?
You will retract those words, ser!
..Else suffer what consequence?
I shall wash my honor clean in your blood!
And you would play the second? I would welcome the challenge.
He's made an open mockery of me and my homeland.
An oathbreaker of your ilk is champion to no man.
They were convenient to my purpose, nothing more.
What cause is served by sending men to die for his pleasure?
And what of those of this land who will die for your peace?
Will you stand idly by while a people lose their land?
You are no knight, villain!
Pray, think of the morrow.
What is gained by all our deaths?
I will not suffer such slander!
Has he sent his finest blades? A general fit to lead them?
Your head is a meager trophy.
The men of the fort may have use of you yet.
Is no slander beneath you?
The duel is well and settled. Begone from my sight at once.
I've no more patience to indulge your play at knighthood.
Run along home while you yet live.
'Tis a sorry truth that righteousness is a rare luxury in war.
No oath binds you, nor would my death do you any great service.
I must make a pitiable sight..
I knew.. I am a meager choice to send as aid.
I fear I put on a shameful display...
He had the truth of it, every word.. I am weak.
I serve no purpose here, save as hollow homage to an empty pact.
It would please me to know it provided you some small comfort on your journey.
I cannot hope to grow strong overnight, but I will return able to serve you.
Your pride is lost, but you've kept your head.
Such utter defeat ill leaves room for argument.
They will have my confession, and my head, should they wish it.
Even as I am, I've still some semblance of pride.
Do you think me a fool for coming back? For not running?
In truth, I hardly know my own reasons.
Better that men at arms turn and run, than stand and die.
I was sure it was the best way. The only way.
You brought doubt with you.
'Tis a strange thing, to find such hope unwelcome.
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The yearling horses stand in the field,
up to their knees in the new grass.
This is the first world we live in, there is no second.
Charles Wright, from “ XXVII. One Needs No Paradise When the Rain Falls”, two poems from Littlefoot excerpted in Poetry Northwest (via soracities)
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