I hear the wind blowing across the desert and I see the moons of a winter night rising like great ships in the void. To them I make my vow: I will be resolute and make an art of government; I will balance my inherited past and become a perfect storehouse of my relic memories. And I will be known for kindliness more than for knowledge. My face will ( Read more... )

Ghanima: He runs and runs and runs. And when he's exhausted himself, he returns to me, puts his head in my lap and asks me to help him find a way to die.
Farad'n Corrino: But why does he want to die?
Ghanima: To save himself from the sacrifices he must make, sacrifices for the future of us all

Okay, so this is an essay on Leto. I will try to ( Read more... )