Gardens of the Moon

To be worshipped is to share the supplicant's pain.

I see a man
crouched in a fire
who leaves me cold
and wondering what
he is doing here so boldly
crouched in my pyre ...

Gadrobi Epitaph
Anonymous

Crone flapped up on to the sill. She swivelled her head round and cocked an eye at Baruk. 'I see twelve ships riding a deep harbour,' she said. 'Eleven stand tall in flames.'

Baruk stiffened. He had not anticipated a prophecy. Now he was afraid. 'And the twelfth?' he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

'On the wind a hailstorm of sparks fill the night sky. I see them spinning, spinning about the last vessel.' Crone paused. 'Still spinning.' Then she was gone.

Hungers are ever the impetus to climbing.

Ganoes Stabro Paran

The curse of climbing is discovering how great the distance yet to climb.

there are some things in life that you can go through only once.

Nineteenth Regiment of the Eighth Cavalry were all killed, even their horses.

Self-righteous wrath had planted more corpses in the ground than an empire could lay claim to,

Mane of Chaos. Anomander Rake. Lord of the black-skinned Tiste Andii, who has looked down on a hundred thousand winters, who has tasted the blood of dragons, who leads the last of his kind, seated in the Throne of Sorrow and a kingdom tragic and fey — a kingdom with no land to call its own.