“Often, when a stranger says, ‘Trust me,’ a wise man puts his hand on his purse and backs away.” — Matt Hughes

“We should be frank with each other,” Lavelan said.

It had been my experience that most conversations that were launched on such a declaration represented an attempt by the initiator to gain far more information than he intended to give.

I had no doubt that there was madness here. How could it be otherwise in a cosmos that was ordered solely by will? It did not mean that the insane would automatically rise to the apex of the social order; their efforts would be diffused by the randomness of the impulses that drove them. But those whose extraordinary powers of will propelled them to the heights of power and rank would always be vulnerable to going further than they should. And there would be none but their equally mad rivals to restrain them.

“There are, occasionally, rarely, some…difficulties,” she admitted.

“That is a word that may cover a great swath of territory,” I said, “from the low foothills of minor inconvenience to the insurmountable peaks of constant vexation.”