The world has long ceased to be the author of your anguish.
Hoga Gothyelk no longer felt anger, not truly -- only varieties of sorrow.
There’s faith that knows itself as faith, Proyas, and there’s faith that confuses itself for knowledge. The first embraces uncertainty, acknowledges the mysteriousness of the God. It begets compassion...
A strange coldness had settled upon Achamian, the monolithic selfishness of which only children and madmen are sometimes capable.
I rememeber asking a wise man, once . . . 'Why do Men fear the dark?' . . . 'Because darkness' he told me, 'is ignorance made visible.' 'And do Men despise ignorance?' I asked. 'No,' he said, 'they pr...
He said ... A pause. He cleared his throat. He said that pity was the only love I could hope for.
Have you heard the saying, Skeaös? ‘Cats look down upon Man, and dogs look up, but only pigs dare look Man straight in the eye.’ Y-yes, God-of-Men. Pretend that you are a pig, Skeaös. What
She acted for reasons she knew not, spoke words she did not understand, pursuing ends that she could neither fathom nor bear. The
Like life, games were governed by rules. But unlike life, games were utterly defined by those rules. The rules were the game, and if one played by different rules, then one simply played a different g...
When a man possesses the innocence of a child, we call him a fool.When a child possesses the cunning of a man, we call him an abomination. As with love, knowledge has its seasons.
Complexity begets ambiguity, which yields in all ways to prejudice and avarice. Complication does not so much defeat Men as arm them with fancy.
And do Men despise ignorance?’ I asked. ‘No,’ he said, ‘they prize it above all things—all things!—but only so long as it remains invisible.
All sorcerers had studied alchemy to some extent, and all alchemists, at least those worth their salt, knew how to cook.
A cut scarred where a caress faded away.
Something ... made him feel small, not in the way of orphans or beggars or children, but in a good way. In the way of souls.
Gods are but greater demons, the Cishaurim said, hungers across the surface of eternity, wanting only to taste the clarity of our souls. Can you not see this?
Consequences lost all purchase when they became mad. And desperation, when pressed beyond anguish, became narcotic.
To observe a thing always is to observe a thing not at all.
Our words always paint two portraits when we describe our families to others. Outsiders cannot but see the small peeves and follies that wrinkle our relationships with our loved ones. The claims we ma...
For all things there is a toll. We pay in breaths, and our purse is soon empty.