But given time, horror fades, and repetition makes what was unthinkable now normal; the monstrous is made manageable. For mankind adapts to every horror.
This can’t have happened.
This happened but not often.
This happened often, but this happens no longer.
This happens still but not often.
This happens often, but this is what must happen. This is what someone must do.
This is what I must do.
This is what I will do.
I am doing this.
I have done that, and it is what you must do in your turn.
“O my God,” Karris said, “please, please, save us.”
And the words were that commander’s grief, as he held a dead child in his arms, at finding out the massacre hadn’t been committed by some mortal foe but by his own men.
Man, just when I’m sailing along, Weeks writes something that stops me dead in my tracks! I like that about his writing.