The Mercy of Gods (The Captive's War #1)

by James S.A. Corey

“You’re at a point in your career that you should make people uneasy. You’re too fond of being underestimated. It’s a vice. You’re going to have to impress someone someday.”

Your own people were in a constant generational argument over which group or subgroup, gender or culture or religion, suffered most at the hands of the others, as if the concept of justice were not narrative and abstract.

Over and over again, we found it in our subject species, this faith that a state of peace was not only possible, but desirable. That if only someone were clever enough or wise enough, a way could be found for everyone to be in comfort and satiety.

The species that exist long enough to achieve higher orders of intelligence do so only by relentlessly out-competing the other species around them.

As though it is possible through intellect or philosophy to transcend the fundamental nature of all life.

A leader must be utterly decisive, especially when giving orders that conflict with the ones from the day before.

The universe is in constant change from the smallest measures to the greatest. To cling to one state of being over any others is foolish and futile and doomed.