As flies to wanton boys, are we to the gods. They kill us for their sport.

[ Break, in his abundant free time, had taken to listening to Shakespeare. King Lear, in particular, stood out. ]


Fate is cruel. Life is suffering.

[ He draws Kevin closer, resting his cheek against the poor angel's head. ]

The best that we can do is — just muddle on. Just keep going, as best we can.

[ Does Kevin hear Solomon's screams in his nightmares, just as Break hears Lady Sinclair's plaintive cry: Don't leave me! I'll be all alone! ]