“No need to thank me, Casey. I’m your father. My job is to take care of you.” “I’m twenty-nine, Dad.” “I don’t care if you’re fifty. You’ll always be my daughter, so I’ll always take care of you.”
“Which is more intricate?” he mused. “The designs of men, trying to reach gods, or that of gods, trying to reach men?” My hammer collided with a chunk of granite. “What is either to the intricacies of women, who reach both?”
― The Knight and the Moth
― The Knight and the Moth
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