Between them the body and the soul have bred a spirit, and in the fires of tribulation from that spirit has been distilled the essence of eternal love.

That is Time's gift to me, and therefore, although still he rules me here, I mock at Fate," and she waved her hand with a gesture of defiance at the stern-faced, sexless effigy which sat above us, the sword across its knees.
"Look! Look!" she went on in a swelling voice of music, pointing to the statues of the dotard and the beauteous woman.

"They implore Fate, they worship Fate.

I do not implore, I do not worship or ask a sign as even Oro does and as did his forefathers.

I rise above and triumph.