All men are born condemned, so the wise say. All suckle the breast of Death.
All bow before that Shadow Monarch. That Lord in Shadow lifts a finger. A feather flutters to the earth. There is no reason in His song. The good go young. The wicked prosper. He is king of the Chaos Lands. His breath stills all souls. (Glen Cook)

All men are born condemned, so the wise say. All suckle the breast of Death. All bow before that Shadow Monarch. That Lord in Shadow lifts a finger. A feather flutters to the earth. There is no reason in His song. The good go young. The wicked prosper. He is king of the Chaos Lands. His breath stills all souls.

Glen Cook

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born bow breast breath chaos condemned death earth feather finger good men king lord monarch reason say shadow song suckle wise young

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