Life and peace. Victory and vengeance.
And never the twain shall meet.

Vengeance ought to be spoken through gritted teeth, spittle flying, the cords of one's soul so entangled in it that you can't let it go, even if you try. If you feel it--if you really feel it--then you speak it like it's a still-beating heart clenched in your fist and there's blood running down your arm, dripping off your elbow, and you can't let go.

World peace for dinner," mused Mik, scratching his beard stubble. "Does that come with fries?"

"It freaking better," said Zuzana. "Or I will send it freaking back.

Peace is more than the absence of war. Peace is accord. Harmony.

With ever imperfection you can find the beauty in it being just perfect

Infinities are not for casual exploration. You could fall and keep falling. You could get lost.