I just--I have no words. There's something in the choleric rebels that resounds with me, something in Hotspur and Coriolanus and their ilk--and it's this. It's everything you've said: the honesty of their love for battle; how real it is for them when everything else is all nebulous words and pandering, ungraspable and disquieting and disgusting; the sense that they are at the center of something great and terrible and beautiful. That they don't fight because they hate, or because they long for death, but because they are fighters, and doing anything else would be untrue.

I'm so very impressed and grateful. This is perfect. Thank you so much!