Fate, chance, and the gods do not usually send great envoys on white horses, nor in the czar's mail. Fate, in all its forms, always uses humble messengers.
Life is not noble, nor good, nor sacred, and I find nothing to respect or venerate in heaven or on earth... but thanks to this son born and lost, there will always be for me, in the purest of light, a sacred being, a creature of gold.