“What do you know of the Knights?” he asked. Fin shrugged. “I thought knights were only in children’s stories until a few days ago.” Jeannot smiled. “A man could do worse than to live in the stories of a child. There is, perhaps, no better remembrance.” “Until the child grows up and finds out the stories aren’t true. You might be knights, but I don’t see any shining armor,” Fin said. Jeannot stopped near the gate of the auberge and faced her. “Each time a story is told, the details and accuracies and facts are winnowed away until all that remains is the heart of the tale. If there is truth at the heart of it, a tale may live forever. As a knight, there is no dragon to slay, no maiden to rescue, and no miraculous grail to uncover. A knight seeks the truth beneath these things, seeks the heart. We call this the corso. The path set before us. The race we must run.” LifeTruthMythMythologyStorytellingKnightsFairy TalesFablesThe Meaning Of LifeThe Purpose Of LifeChildren S StoriesCorsoThe Knights Of Malta Book:Fiddler's Green Source: Fiddler's Green
“Don’t seem right, do it?” said Topper. “It ain’t right,” replied Fin. “Not at all.” Jack guzzled his wine and wiped at his beard. “Mayhap it’s right and we can’t see it...” Topper scratched his bald head and hummed in thought. “Still don’t seem right,” he proclaimed when he’d hummed enough. Jack dropped his flagon to the deck and it rolled away clattering. “Yeah, well, what seems ain’t always what is.” LifeJusticeProvidenceRight And WrongSeeing Is BelievingFinite Perspective Book:Fiddler's Green Source: Fiddler's Green