A Drop of Corruption (Shadow of the Leviathan, #2)

by Robert Jackson Bennett

“You know, you are not a stupid person, Din.” “Thank you, ma’am,” I said, pleased. “Or, rather, not an unusually stupid person.” “Thank you, ma’am,” I said, far less pleased.

“I feel akin to the disappointed maiden during her first night in the marital bed—the more I pull at what I find, the more I find to my liking! Let us begin, then.”

Goddamn autocrats. They really are hardly better than shit-stained children.”

A fucking note! I feel we needn’t bother looking at faces to find this man, Din! Just keep an eye out for the fellow with testicles large enough to cause back deformities, and we shall have our culprit!”

“Enough jibes,” snapped Ana. “I must focus, and it takes too much effort for me to invest any fucking wit in your idiotic banter!”

Me to my kids.

“Fucking hell. Get these damned fools out of my sight, so I can think!”

I think maybe I am Ana?

“It is good to place oneself before the vast expanse of this world,” said Ana. “The ocean cannot tell the difference between a rich man and a poor one, nor one full of happiness, or despair. To those waves, all are so terribly small.”

Because all the characters in this story—like all of humanity, apparently—have a little blank spot in their heads that says, “Kings. What a good idea.” The idea is powerful, and seductive, and should not be underestimated. To be a civilization of any worth, however, means acknowledging the idea—and then condemning it as laughably, madly stupid.