I know this. I've been here already. I know this taste – the taste of Damascus Rose obfuscating the truth in a dim haze. They may sweep the traces from my memory, but my body remembers. These cuts speak volumes, even though my mind remains silent.

They will be back. Oh, they will be back.

There is no shame in using a parasol in the desert. As it happens, it's imperative to your survival!

Optimism is a most hopeless feeling, but I must retain it.

The inner sanctum – my most precious chamber, Daniel. And it lies well beyond the refinery. In fact... it lies beneath the very stone of Brennenburg.

The desert dunes were like waves in a sluggish sea. While the caravan moved the land appeared motionless, but in camp the hills moved.