All roads were one, surely, even if their textures differed.Was she as varied, a part of herself as rough and tutted as the Goreddi roads, and some other part as efficient as the Ninysh? She often felt, early in the morning, when the world seemed most malleable, that she contained these potentials, and more.It wasn’t merely that she could be anything, but that she was everything, all at once.
-Rachel Hartman
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