It is human nature, to give in hope of getting.
In love, howsoever it is manifest, we are greater than the sum of our parts.
Without plenty, the wealthy lack compassion for the poor, hoarding without sharing. Without law, the strong bully the weak, stealing by force.
Empty yourself of everything,” he said. “Let your mind rest at peace. Ten thousand things rise and fall while the self watches. They grow and flourish and return to the source. Returning to the source is stillness, which is the way of nature. The way of nature is unchanging. Practice your breathing and think upon this, Moirin.
The enemy of fear is not courage,” Jahno translated for her. “The enemy of fear is love, for it is in loving others that we set aside our own personal fears, holding their safety and well-being as our highest regard.
Feeling foolish, I scowled at her. “Does it amuse you to mock me, my lady?” “A little.” Refreshed by sleep, her eyes sparkled unrepentantly. “You are so very serious, my shadow.
What she referenced with such careless ease seemed a world-shattering notion to me.
Tell me, my heart, would you rather wed a handsome man or a wealthy one?” Zariya considered the question. “If I had the luxury of choice, I would choose a kind man.
Poetry glories in excess. When it’s not extolling the virtues of austerity.
I could kill you in a dozen different ways without breaking a sweat. Do not think to dictate my comings and goings.
What is a warrior’s first and greatest weapon, young Khai?” “It is his mind, Elder Brother,” I said.
It seems to me that the gods are cruel to women who eat fruit, but that is a thought I keep to myself.
Questions are dangerous because they have answers.
Always, he whispered. The gods do not always answer, but they are always listening.
I cannot blame them, in truth, for desiring... But they were like children, who have only just begun to grasp the idea of a thing. And like children, they had no notion of laboring to create, but only of having... and no thought given to the cost, to others, of taking it.
Let the warriors clamor after gods of blood and thunder; love is hard, harder than steel and thrice as cruel. It is as inexorable as the tides, and life and death alike follow in its wake.
Is the world so cruel, then, that that is all that is required to move a man to risk his life? Kindness?
All this I knew, and yet it was a different thing, to learn it from Delaunay: not stories, but histories. For this too I learned, that a storyteller’s tale may end, but history goes on always. These events, so distant in legend, play a part in shaping the very events we witness about us, each and every day. When I understood this, Delaunay said, I might begin to understand.
In the desert we say Make haste slowly.
The world began in ending, and it will end in beginning.