Anne: If I’d stayed in Prison, they’d have taken him from me. But he’d now be alive. Might be this is God’s way of saying I’m not fit to be a Mother yet. Carrying on like I do Cursing, and drinking, and fighting.
Edward: You are a Fighter, aye. In Prison, I heard Stories of the infamous Anne Bonny and Mary Read, taking on the King’s Navy together. Just the Pair of you.
Anne: It’s all true. And we’d have won that Day if Jack and his Lads weren’t passed out in the Hold from drink.
Edward… everyone’s gone, aren’t they? Mary. Rackham. Thatch. And all the Rest. I miss them so, rough as they were. Do you feel that too? All empty inside, like.
Al Mualim:Before you go, I have a question for you.
Al Mualim:What is the truth?
Altair:We place faith in ourselves. We see the world the way it really is, and hope that one day all mankind might see the same.
Al Mualim:What is the world, then?
Altair:An illusion. One which we can either submit to, as most do, or transcend.
Al Mualim:What is it to transcend?
Altair:To recognize nothing is true and everything is permitted. That laws arise not from divinity but reason. I understand now that our creed does not command us to be free. It commands us to be wise.
“Everything is permitted,” exclaims Ivan Karamazov. That, too, smacks of the absurd. But on condition that it not be taken in the vulgar sense. I don’t know whether or not it has been sufficiently pointed out that it is not an outburst of relief or of joy, but rather a bitter acknowledgment of a fact. The certainty of a God giving a meaning to life far surpasses in attractiveness the ability to behave badly with impunity. The choice would not be hard to make. But there is no choice, and that is where the bitterness comes in. The absurd does not liberate; it binds. It does not authorize all actions. “Everything is permitted” does not mean that nothing is forbidden. The absurd merely confers an equivalence on the consequences of those actions. It does not recommend crime, for this would be childish, but it restores to remorse its futility. Likewise, if all experiences are indifferent, that of duty is as legitimate as any other. One can be virtuous through a whim.
“For Years I’ve been rushing around, taking whatever I fancied, not giving a Tinker’s Curse for those I hurt. Yet here I am… with Riches and a Reputation, feeling no wiser than when I left Home. Yet when I turn around, and look at the course I’ve run… here’s not a Man or Woman that I love left standing beside me.” - Edward Kenway