Firequencher raised his hand. "I've been staying out of family conversations. Do I get credit for that?

The world was full of locked doors, and he had to get his hand on every key.

At first he thought he felt bad because he was afraid of leading an army, but it wasn't true. He knew he'd make a good commander. He felt himself wanting to cry. He hadn't cried since the first few days of homesickness after he got here. He tried to put a name on the feeling that put a lump in his throat and made him sob silently, however much he tried to hold it down. He bit down on his hand to stop the feeling, to replace it with pain. It didn't help.

And enough for me that when my hand touched your shoulder, you leaned on me; and when you felt me slip away, you called my name.

My hands are clean, but not because I wasn't prepared to bloody them.

Sickness and healing are in every heart; death and deliverance in every hand.