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she had married the sword and shield. I wondered if I might follow such a path. I would rather this than to be packed off to some foreign prince’s bed to wail in childbirth a half dozen times, and, if I survived that, to oversee cooks and stewards and to overlook infidelities, and poor manners, and to be loved less than a hunting dog.
It has thunder in its wood and lightning in its metal.
To love someone well is to know their small noises, and to hear home in them.
Moderation, too, is good in moderation.
Fuck goblins, and fuck whatever wretched god made them. They are only for killing.
Her throne had been usurped by her uncle Kalith, may his mustache be dipped in the fiery shit of devils.
So, you see, Galts are good for something, sometimes.
A thousand flatterers are not worth one person who is willing to wipe your ass.
To be loved by a man is to be issued a decree he has written in advance, and has presented to others; to receive a woman’s love is to have a very personal letter written on one’s body.
But such goodbyes are rare in calamities.
It is better to be thought dull by the vulgar than to be thought vulgar by those of consequence.
I do not need to be loved as deeply as I love, and I do not need to speak of it. All I knew was that she remembered me in this moment. And one moment is all there ever is.
