[He could weave the most eloquent condolences and still his words would have the same impact, no more and no less. What are words to the barren cavern hollowed from inside him? To the cold winds that there howl and lash his heart? If Oliver handles this exchange awkwardly, then Achilles in all his grief notices not, just as he had failed to see how his intentions were misread all along by the other man.]
None is more sorry than I, Oliver. Twice have I borne this heaviest of griefs, and for that the burden is no lighter.
no subject
None is more sorry than I, Oliver. Twice have I borne this heaviest of griefs, and for that the burden is no lighter.