"Well--all right, this Declaration of the Rights of Man, that's from before I was born. Not much, ten years or so. The people who wrote it governed France--and then power was taken from them, and we've had an emperor and kings since." He's wincing inside at the oversimplification, but hopefully it doesn't show. "My friends and I were fighting to, to restore that kind of government. We--well. You know. But coming here, I've found out that it does work eventually. I just mean--I just mean that I'm--I'm talking about things I'd like to be, things I wanted to be, things that I think should be. But I'm not--it's hopes for a future, my hopes, it's not a catechism."

Ah, damn. Conversation is a thread, and it can fray and snap. He rubs his face with both hands, tangling his fingers in his hair.