“You think you are the god of death? You are simple. A jackal, driven by instinct. But you are trapped and isolated. A petulant canine convinced of his own superiority. You think yourself powerful because you were born powerful. But you never chose the darkness. You never had to invent evil. I did.”

“You think you are the god of death? You are simple. A jackal, driven by instinct. But you are trapped and isolated. A petulant canine convinced of his own superiority. You think yourself powerful because you were born powerful. But you never chose the darkness. You never had to invent evil. I did.”

— Nicholas Woode-Smith