Is is the will which separates us. A will, for you, which moves as long grass in the wind, as the flame by a slamming door.
When the walls come down and worlds collide, those who remember peace lose the most.
There is a fine and delicate line one walks in pursuit of peace or silence. Those who confuse the two shall often find little peace, and only momentary silence.
The noose exists for more than the hangman and hanged.
Violence was always the answer. The only one to be heard by those who would listen not to reason or plea, not to fact or fear.