The Complete Malazan Book of the Fallen

by Steven Erikson

“Eventually a man reaches a point where every memory is unwelcome,” Fiddler said,

And so, the simple truth…the tracks we have walked in for so long become our lives, in themselves a prison—

Of all the weapons we turn upon ourselves, guilt is the sharpest, Silverfox. It can carve one’s own past into unrecognizable shapes, false memories leading to beliefs that sow all kinds of obsessions.’

Diversity is worth celebrating, Humbrall Taur, for it is the birthplace of wisdom.’

‘Feather Witch, the question of what is deserved should rarely, if ever, be asked. Asking it leads to deadly judgement, and acts of unmitigated evil. Atrocity revisited in the name of justice breeds its own atrocity. We Letherii are cursed enough with righteousness, without inviting yet more.’

When sober, the sergeant noticed things, in a proper and diligent manner suited to a city guard. And while she was not consistently drunk, cold sobriety was an invitation to hysteria, so Hellian endeavoured to proceed steadily on the wobbly rope of not-quite-drunk.

‘And then we leave,’ the wizard added. ‘No heroic stands.’ ‘The Fourteenth’s motto,’ Stormy said, with a loud sigh.

So much had changed inside him. He was no believer in causes, not any more. Certainty was an illusion, a lie. Fanaticism was poison in the soul, and the first victim in its inexorable, ever-growing list was compassion. Who could speak of freedom, when one’s own soul was bound in chains?

No god truly deserved its acolytes. It was an unequal relationship in every sense, Heboric told himself. Mortals could sacrifice their entire adult life in the pursuit of communion with their chosen god, and what was paid in return for such devotion? Not much at best; often, nothing at all. Was the faint touch from something, someone, far greater in power – was that enough?

she had no luck at all, and when good things showed up, rare as that was, well, she didn’t know what to do or say.’ He shrugged. ‘A person hurts enough inside, all they can do is hurt back.

Show me a god that does not demand mortal suffering. Show me a god that celebrates diversity, a celebration that embraces even non-believers and is not threatened by them. Show me a god who understands the meaning of peace. In life, not in death.

knees. Staring after the fast-diminishing dragon, Fiddler leaned his crossbow onto his shoulder. ‘This ain’t your fight,’ he said to the distant creature. ‘Fucking dragon.’ Then he turned and stared at Hedge. Who, grinning, stared back. ‘No ghost?’ ‘No ghost. Aye, Fid, I’m back.’

People don’t change to suit their god; they change their god to suit them.

No, the Tiste Andii were never foolish enough to force upon our icons the impossibility of perfection.’

‘Looking for what?’ ‘Some provision, any provision, for a High Priest of Shadow having two wives.’ ‘Is there one?’ ‘How should I know?’ ‘Well,’ Cotillion said, ‘didn’t you write it?’ Shadowthrone shifted about. ‘I was busy.’ ‘So who did?’ Shadowthrone would not answer. Cotillion’s brows rose. ‘Not Pust! The Book of Shadows, where he’s proclaimed the Magus of the High House Shadow?’ ‘It’s called delegation,’ Shadowthrone snapped. ‘It’s called idiocy.’ ‘Well, hee hee. I dare say he’ll find what he’s looking for, won’t he?’ ‘Aye, with the ink still wet.’

‘And how do these warrens relate to your Deck of Dragons?’ The High Mage flinched. ‘Not my Deck, sire, I assure you. There is no simple answer to your question—’ ‘It’s about time! I was beginning to feel very stupid. Please understand, I have no problem about being stupid. Feeling stupid is entirely another matter.’

Fiddler snorted. ‘Sapper, listen to me. It’s easy to listen and even easier to hear wrongly, so pay attention. I’m no wise man, but in my life I’ve learned that knowing something—seeing it clearly—offers no real excuse for giving up on it. And when you put what you see into words, give ’em to somebody else, that ain’t no invitation neither. Being optimistic’s worthless if it means ignoring the suffering of this world. Worse than worthless. It’s bloody evil. And being pessimistic, well, that’s just the first step on the path, and it’s a path that might take you down Hood’s road, or it takes you to a place where you can settle into doing what you can, hold fast in your fight against that suffering. And that’s an honest place, Cuttle.’ ‘It’s the place, Fiddler,’ said Brys, ‘where heroes are found.’

There are many forms of courage, I believe, most of which pass unseen by the majority of us. It’s not always about facing death, is it? Sometimes it’s about facing life.’