Brom quotes:

A house built on lies has a weak foundation.

But Peter had seen too much, knew too well that men-kind didn't need an excuse to be cruel and murder one another.

Peter stood up and let a wicked smile slide across his face. "Time to play.

Burn? Smite? Punish? Why is your god so intolerant? So jealous? Why must there be only one god? Why is there not room for many?

And Peter laughed, and when he did, all the Devils grinned, because Peter's laugh was a most contagious thing.

Go and play. Run around. Build something. Break something. Climb a tree. Get dirty. Get in some trouble. Have some fun.

Both sides so blinded by their fear and hate of each other that they couldn't see they were all fighting for the same thing.

If you don't learn to laugh at life it'll surely kill you, that I know.

There's a reason why we're born with brains in our heads, not rocks.

Enough talk," Peter said, and his eyes flashed. "It's time to turn you three into killers.

Did he dare trust this insane boy?

For Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.

My name's Peter. Can I play too?

And may God be merciful, because these twisted men will not.

Demon or not, it didn't matter, suffering was everywhere he looked.

Peter finds the lost, the left-behind, the abused. Is that not why you are here? Did Peter not save you?

Peter," she whispered and reached out, touching his cheek. "My little Peterbird? You flew back to me.

I am your forest, your earth, your eternity. I am your life. I am your death. I am all things forever and always. Love me. Love me. Forever love me.

Almost lost you," he thought, surprised to find himself blinking back tears. "Been through too much, me and you. We're going to finish this thing together.

Shit spews from your lips as from the ass of a pig.

Does mankind truly hate itself? How can one surmount such irreverence~?

Men who fear demons see demons everywhere.

That's the spirit, one part brave, three parts fool.

Everything comes with a price. Everything. Some things just cost more than others.

Children like yourselves are full of magic, but the men have turned, they've lost their magic to the fear and hatred they harbor for all that they can't explain, control, or understand.

My tale doesn't end there, for the end has yet to be written.

But he was sick of this charade. Sick of watching people lose a little more of their humanity each day, and sick to death of seeing people tortured in the name of God. What had happened to these people?

Your dreams are your spirit, your soul and without them your are dead. You must guard your dreams always. Always. Lest someone steal them away from you. I know what it is to have your dreams stolen. I know what it is to be dead. Guard your dreams. Always guard your dreams.

Peter stood, cleared his throat, and began to hum softly, then sing, slowly building up the song as his voice cleared. He found the old tune, the song of the Sunbird. And as he sung, as his rich voice echoed off the tall cliffs, the birds and the faeries lent him their voice and soon the tune drifted throughtout the garden.

Had not enough gone wrong?

Peter's face clouded. "Everything comes at a price. Or have you not learned that yet?

What will happen, will happen.

Don't let them win. Don't let them beat you. Don't let them steal your magic.

Then let us go and be terrible.

The boy planted his hands on his hips and a broad smile lit his face. "My name's Peter. Can I play too?

There is always something left to lose.

Peter glanced up at the stars and a wicked smile lit his face. "Time to play," he whispered to the stars and winked. And the stars winked back, for Peter's smile is a most contagious thing.

Your dreams are your spirit, your soul, and without them you are dead.