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.
I'm an incurable romantic. The essence of romance is an unshakable conviction that next time will be different.
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.
She is the darkness.
Morning is wonderful. Its only drawback is that it comes at such an inconvenient time of day.
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 am haunted by the clear knowledge that, in the end, evil always triumphs.
Righteousness is not a shield. The good die more quickly than the bad.
Wars are being fought every day, even where armies are not on the march. And wars within wars. And wars behind wars.
Something he had heard some wise man say. About the three stages of empire, the three generations. First came the conquerers, unstoppable in war. Then came the administrators, who bound it all togethe...
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...
Will ever really understand. Not even those who shook our hands when we left. Not even those who welcomed us back with mighty hugs and no conception whatsoever what it was like to sit there watching t...
Into trouble because what he keeps hidden under his skirt has a mind of its own.
You can’t convince me that I’m obligated to save you from yourself.
This is a favorite game, matching wits with a Raker. He is blind to the dead, to the burning villages, to the starving children. As is the Rebel. Two blind armies, able to see nothing but one another.
There is no vengeance as terrible as the vengeance a coward plots in the dark of his heart.
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...
Cruel it may be, but most of us enjoy what we do—and the Captain more than anyone. This is a favorite game, matching wits with a Raker. He is blind to the dead, to the burning villages, to the starvin...
Troublesome as females are when they step out of their proper roles as connivers, manipulators, gossips, backstabbers, and bearers and nurturers of the young, slaughtering them is not an acceptable fo...