“I hope you don’t expect fairness from me, Alina. It isn’t one of my specialties.”

“This really isn’t fair,” Mena said. “What is ‘fair’?” asked one of the watchers called Devoth. “I don’t know this word.”

“What did I do to make Mommy leave?”“You didn’t do anything. This isn’t your fault.”“Then why?” she’d wailed.“I don’t know,” her daddy had said, and he looked so sad.“It isn’t fair!”“No, it isn’t, baby. Not by a mile. The world’s only as fair as you can make it. Takes a lot of fight. A lot of fight. But if you stay in here, in your own little cave, that’s one less fighter on the side of fair.”

“It’s probably my job to tell you life isn’t fair, but I figure you already know that. So instead, I’ll tell you that hope is precious, and you’re right not to give up.”

“A blaster against a knife isn’t fair. (a Partini)No shit…and so goes my incentive to fight fairly. You want fair, play with kids. You wanna come at me, make out a will. (Syn)”

“A Dear John haiku:This isn’t working.I hope we can still be friends.Please don’t kill my cat.”