I admitted, This might not have been one of my brighter ideas. On the contrary. It confirms our suspicions that there’s a greater interest in us than should be for simple travellers. They mean to use...
An old, tired man. That is what I am. What became of the old fire, drive, ambition? There were dreams once upon a time, dreams now all but forgotten. On sad days I dust them off and fondle them nostal...
There is nothing so unreasonable and irrational and blind—and just plain silly-looking—as a man who works himself into an obsessive passion.
The people come from everywhere, from five hundred miles, to find their fortunes. By fortune is an ugly, two-faced goddess. When you have lived with her handiwork for half a generation, you hardly not...
Fright tends to fatten up on ignorance
The river barge Binkey's Sequin reminded me of a shopkeeper's wife. She was middle-aged, middle class, a little run down, a little overweight, extremely stubborn and set in her ways, needing masterful...
I damned myself for my earlier romanticism. That Croaker who had come north, so thoroughly bemused by the mysterious Lady, was another man. A stripling, filled with the foolish ignorances of youth. Ye...
Closer at hand, the wheeling gulls were as surly and lackadaisical as the day promised to make most men.
She came and she went, in sorrow for the death of dreams, and she came no more.
No soldier likes the thought of losing his best friend and favorite toy.
Morning is wonderful. Its only drawback is that it comes at such an inconvenient time of day.
In the night, when the wind dies and silence rules the place of glittering stone, I remember. And they all live again.
Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends on where you are standing, pointing your indicting finger.
I'm an incurable romantic. The essence of romance is an unshakable conviction that next time will be different.
There is no man so insecure as a bottom-level functionary in a sinecure he has held for a long time.
Soldiers live. He dies and not you, and you feel guilty, because you're glad he died, and not you. Soldiers live, and wonder why.
No one will sing songs in our memory. We are the last of the Free Companies of Khatovar. Our traditions and memories live only in these Annals. We are our only mourners. It is the Company against the...
I am haunted by the clear knowledge that, in the end, evil always triumphs.
Into trouble because what he keeps hidden under his skirt has a mind of its own.
There are no self-proclaimed villains, only regiments of self-proclaimed saints. Victorious historians rule where good or evil lies. We abjure labels. We fight for money and an indefinable pride. The...