No man knows, or ever will know, the truth about the gods and about everything I speak of; for even if one chanced to say the complete truth, yet one knows it not; but seeming is wrought over all things.
The only obsession everyone wants: 'love.' People think that in falling in love they make themselves whole? The Platonic union of souls? I think otherwise. I think you're whole before you begin. And the love fractures you. You're whole, and then you're cracked open.