“...you don’t fight fair against the devil, now do you?”

“Write against patterns. Go against the devils. Write what you never write. Lie. Validate what you don’t validate. Indulge what you don’t like. Wallow in it. Write the opposite of what you always write, think, speak. Do everything against the grain!”

“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)”

“You fight against that devil for love as long as you may; when the time comes, not all the angels in heaven shall save him!”

“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.”

“Mercy," he said,"in a fair fight between near equals, I'll back you every time. It's the demons, vampires, and river devils I worry about, and I'm working on that.”