Boudica:
All men die, Isolde. All women, too. Our lives are over in a moment. Like a bird that flies out of the darkness into a bright hall - full of light, and noise, and merriment - and then out again into the darkness of eternity. But in that moment, we can do great things. We can make ourselves remembered forever...
[to everyone]
Boudica:
and by all the gods we will!
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:20
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