One man’s madness is another man’s justice.”[...]“And one man’s justice is another man’s madness.

Why did some people experience horror and repeat it while others fought to protect others from it?

I was fitted for clothes, to help me better blend in to society. Not that I expect to blend in, but if you look wealthy, some things can be ignored.” Like your large size and disfigured face, Adam thought.

Everything about this place was evil. This type of temptation was the folly of men who thought they could buy sin without consequences. He hated it.

He’d been called “monster” since the day of his creation. Words like “witchcraft” were screamed in his presence as villagers would rise up in an attempt to capture and burn him.

I look at the headstone of the man I’d come to see. Drawn there by a strange sense of connection. Thomas and I had hoped for mercy that never came. In this, we were brothers.

You cannot escape your fate.” Though I stare at the grave of Thomas Leblanc, the words are meant for me. Thomas and I were, in a moment, the same. We were victims and we were villains. We’d kept silent when we should have spoken out

When fear and self-righteousness spark hatred into action, men forget themselves.

A silent musical note strikes, and a thousand fireflies rise in unison. They move to the music no one else hears. I wonder if I’d sense the tune if I had a soul?

Something about the scent of fresh soil calms me. Earth’s perfume. It reminds me that I am part of the whole of the world.