Emily

“Mother. Father. I am sorry. I have failed you both. I made a promise to protect our people, Mother. I thought if I could stop the Templars, If I could keep the revolution free from their influence, then those I supported would do what was right. They did, I suppose, do what was right - what was right for them. As for you, Father, I thought I might unite us, that we would forget the past and forge a better future. In time, I believed you could be made to see the world as I do - to understand. But it was just a dream. This, too, I should have known. Were we not meant to live in peace, then? Is that it? Are we born to argue? To fight? So many voices - each demanding something else.
"It has been hard at times, but never harder than today. To see all I worked for perverted, discarded, forgotten. You would say I have described the whole of history, Father. Are you smiling, then? Hoping I might speak the words you long to hear? To validate you? To say that all along you were right? I will not. Even now, faced as I am with the truth of your cold words, I refuse. Because I believe things can still change.
"I may never succeed. The Assassins may struggle another thousand years in vain. But we will not stop."
"Compromise. That's what everyone has insisted on. And so I have learnt it. But differently than most, I think. I realize now that it will take time, that the road ahead is long and shrouded in darkness. It is a road which will not always take me where I wish to go - and I doubt I will live to see it end. But I will travel down it nonetheless."
"For at my side walks hope. In the face of all that insists I turn back, I carry on: this, this is my compromise.”
― Oliver Bowden, Forsaken

“I am an expert swordsman. And I am skilled in the business of death. I take no pleasure in my skill. Simply, I am good at it.”
― Oliver Bowden, Forsaken

“And so, Woodhull single-mindedly devoted himself to destroying the British, their allies, and all that they stood for by spying the daylights out of them.”
― Alexander Rose, Washington's Spies: The Story of America's First Spy Ring

“I hope that Connor, my own son, will read this journal, and perhaps, when he knows a little about my own journey through life, understand me, maybe even forgive me. My own path was paved with lies, my mistrust forged from treachery. But my own father never lied to me and, with this journal, I preserve that custom.

I present the truth, Connor, that you may do with it as you will.”
― Oliver Bowden, Forsaken