It is what a man does for strangers that counts more than what he does for his family.
In the end, the sum of my vices is all me.
I look over to the other side of the road and watch Griggs as he walks. It’s a lazy walk but so full of confidence that you want to be standing behind him all the way.
It’s like geographical humor. You just don’t get it unless you were there.
I’m frightened that one morning there will not be enough to keep me going.
Trevanion wrapped his arm around his son’s neck like shepherd’s hook and dragged him along playfully. when he let go, Finnikin thought he would have liked his father to hold on a moment longer.
The idea that God works in mysterious ways is rubbish. There’s nothing mysterious about his ways. They’re premeditated and slightly conniving, and they place you in an impossible situation.
I ran away one day. He was running in the same direction.
Those full of fear were the most dangerous of people.
But then Froi looked back to where his work lay unfinished and it made him sad because there had been something about the touch of earth in his hands that made him feel worthwhile.
Quintana of Charyn’s body was a map of hatred.
I’m not interested in those who do me wrong. There’s not enough time in the day for them.
Lucian was beginning to get used to hearing her small observations at night. More than anything, he realized he liked her voice in the dark. It made him feel less lonely.
Some of us weren’t born for rewards, Froi. We were born for sacrifices.
Strange? I don’t think that word comes anywhere near it. My troops are on an overnight camp three hundred kilometres away from here. I had to sleep at the Santangelo penitentiary for pre-pubescent girls.
I need voices of reason and of hysteria and of empathy. I need to have an Alanis moment. I need advice from Elizabeth Bennett. I need Tim Tams and comfort food.
I heard your song the moment we were born. And years later, it dragged me back from the lake of the half-dead when all I wanted to do was die. Each time someone tried to kill me, it sang its tune and gave me hope.
The truth doesn’t set you free, you know. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed and defenseless and red in the face and horrified and petrified and vulnerable.
They either don’t get it or don’t want to. Maybe I’m just not selling it well.
I look around for the counter that sells my scent, but I’m so petrified that if I spray it in the air, nothing will come out. And then Mia’s scent seems to fade away and everything else fades away with it and I know that all I have to do to recapture it is press the spray button again.