And this one cannot be forgotten
Those who do not remember the past are doomed to repeat it
He was a runner and a lover, but not a fighter. He could face your arsenal of rationality and logic with an impressive array of firepower, shooting holes into all the beliefs you once held like water in your chalice, until you are leaking from a hundred different places. He could stand alone amidst a maelstrom of contention with a perfect composure, as sure in himself as the sunrise in the morning. He could find a mountain blocking his path and move it effortlessly with a stroke of his pen- Or perhaps diminish it with one scathing remark, till it cowered like a molehill at his feet.
His power was always the ability to know when to sneak up behind you, but never the art of war. Meet him squarely on a battlefield with no walls to hide behind, and he would rather strike a deal than risk losing…
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