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To dare is to lose one’s balance; one’s footing in the world. Not to dare is to lose everything worth having.
“But the stories say you’re a warrior. You’re just a teenager from the Outerlands. And…” He raised an eyebrow at her. “And?” “You’re wearing pink socks.” Christopher glanced down. “What? I like pink socks.”
“It’s got stronger, I think, since I came here last. My friends at home call me the Disney princess, because a pigeon tried to nest on my desk at school.”
My father told me: worship gold, and you’ll never feel you have enough of it, and you’ll feel angry and weak and frightened your entire life.
He said it was a terrible curse, to love something you’ll never have enough of.”
“Do you know why dragons hoard gold?” They waited, unspeaking. The dragon’s face convulsed, and then he spoke again. “It is not merely that we love gold, though we do love it, yes—its shine, its cold weight. It is that dragons are old enough to have seen the world, and seen mankind. Mankind is not to be trusted with hoards of gold. It poisons him. No creature is safe in a world in which any one of mankind has limitless gold.
“Twelve pearls for the future, Time torn open in its youth, I offer man or creature One version of the truth.”
What do you do in the face of evil men? In the face of evil men protected by strong men and served by weak men?
One of fear’s darkest powers is that it makes murky that which would otherwise be clear. It hides us from ourselves.
You have no idea what terrible things Claude Argen is capable of.” “I do. What he doesn’t know,” said Anya, “is what terrible things I’m capable of.”
You could trust a person who loves something enough to fight death for it.
There is nothing you cannot do with enough gold and enough fear behind you.”
