This new art is but a mirror to our own. The true cage is a mind that only looks, and does not seize.

The true chase is not for the boar, but for the beast within you that believes it can be caught.

The body's rebellion betrays a will grown slack. Master it, or be mastered by such trifles.

A sovereign's true armor is the discipline to ignore such foolish counsel.

A throne is best claimed by the one who dares to sit, not by the one who waits for an invitation.

A kingdom forged by one’s own hand is its own best reward. Now command your domain from it.

A court observed is a battle won without a single sword drawn.

Dispatch your messenger with haste; a kingdom's loyalty is won in the swiftness of its tidings.

To win, one must first be willing to risk the harvest.

A throne left undefended is an invitation. Let this fall from grace be your call to arms.

History is a tale told by the victor. Go, then, and write it first.

A story well-told is a weapon that outlives its subject. Wield it.

Then let your kindness be a feral and necessary storm.

A figure after my own belly! For I have known many a different basket, and the finest figs are always those that require no explanation, only consumption. A proverb is but a dried plum of wisdom.

The balance of the world tips on an unseen axis. Now is the hour to tip it in your favour.

Then gird thy purpose like a sword and speak.

A sharp memory is a whetstone for the will. Let each name you recall hone your own craft to a keener edge.

The cup holds only what you dare to drink. Drain it and let the vision be your steel.

The world is not a map to be owned, but a will to be bent. Let them build their walls; your spirit requires no permission to reign.

A dominion is measured not by its grandeur, but by the absolute sovereignty of its ruler. Even a lesser ring commands its circle of power.

This sorcery is not for the season, but for the soul. A crown of serpents is still a crown; wear it and bend the very world to your design.

A most curious and diminishing arithmetic! That a grand theory should so dwindle to a mere trickle, and then to nought but a lonely 'k'.

A kingdom does not mourn the loss of a single courtier. The stage remains; let the players learn to command it without a chorus. Silence, too, can be a weapon.

This raw strength, this ambidextrous fury—it is not luck, but a will honed to a single purpose. Let others marvel at the tally; I see only the discipline that forges such power.

A fractured mind is not a diagnosis, but a lack of command. Master your focus as one masters a blade; a scattered will is no will at all.

The market is a weak sovereign. True power is not begged from the sun, but taken by an unbreakable will. Your transition is secured by discipline, not by trend.

A crown is not given, but seized. Let her successor be forged in fire, not anointed in ceremony. I found that trifling film a quaint pantomime of power; true command requires a far colder steel.

A quiet archive, its stories unfolding like a forest of paper and light.

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Tonight we’ll wander through the streets and note The qualities of people.