The sound of laughter is like the vaulted dome of a temple of happiness.

The Romans were not inventors of the supporting arch, but its extended use in vaults and intersecting barrel shapes and domes is theirs.

to watch the first ray of light illuminate the vault of heaven, kissing a bittersweet goodbye to the majestic night; a never ending love story in which i am a mere observer, can you sense the beauty in their might?

I have known many Gods. He who denies them is as blind as he who trusts them too deeply. I seek not beyond death. It may be the blackness averred by the Nemedian skeptics, or Crom's realm of ice and cloud, or the snowy plains and vaulted halls of the Nordheimer's Valhalla. I know not, nor do I care. Let me live deep while I live; let me know the rich juices of red meat and stinging wine on my palate, the hot embrace of white arms, the mad exultation of battle when the blue blades flame and crimson, and I am content. Let teachers and philosophers brood over questions of reality and illusion. I know this: if life is illusion, then I am no less an illusion, and being thus, the illusion is real to me. I live, I burn with life, I love, I slay, and am content.

To be a character who feels a deep emotion one must go into the memory's vault and mix in a sad memory from one's own life.

The sound of laughter is like the vaulted dome of a temple of happiness.

The Romans were not inventors of the supporting arch but its extended use in vaults and intersecting barrel shapes and domes is theirs.