Book of Boris — Fragment LXVII: The Clean Cut
The forge knows no mercy, only measure. A dull hand swings for victory; a steady one for clarity. Humility is learned in two ways: softly, through choice, or sharply, through consequence.
Boris lights the cigar, breath slow, eyes steady.
“We don’t swing for pride. We swing for form. The clean cut teaches where shouting never will.”
The Cat watches from the corner, purr barely audible. The flame dances in her pupils — not fear, but recognition. She knows: when the master and blade are one, the world stays quiet.
- —Filed under Doctrine of Temper, Sect IV: On Restraint and Precision.
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