The Book That Broke the World (The Library Trilogy, #2)

by Mark Lawrence

In the end, she shrugged off her anger. It wasn’t directed at this child who was merely trying to aim her kindness at a target too big for her to comprehend,

One fine day Truth met with Lies upon a mountainside with all of Hantalon spread beneath them: field, and town, and city stretching to the sparkle of the sea. With a disapproving frown, Truth asked of Lies how many she had slain. And true to her nature she answered with a lie. ‘More than you, brother.’

A maiden aunt hovered behind Leetar and Meelan, an ever-present spectre both to guard their honour and to warn, by grim example, of the dangers inherent in holding onto it too long.

but he understood that what they needed more than the truth was a purpose.

A story is how you tell yourself truths you’re not brave enough to hear.

‘People don’t choose sides up here.’ He tapped his head. ‘That’s where they think up the reasons for the choice after they’ve made it.

The majority of each breath we take is gas of types that will not sustain us. The truth, like oxygen, is necessary if we are to live. And, like oxygen, if it is all we get, it will kill us.

The slowly increasing application of pressure can move mountains. Hunger is such a pressure. Most of our morals are molehills.

Advancing from finger paints to the quill pen enabled writers to whisper more prettily. The printing press allowed them to shout.