The Wheel of Osheim (The Red Queen's War, #3)

by Mark Lawrence

A man’s first taste of the poppy gives him something glorious and wonderful, something that he strives to recapture with each return to the resin, but in the end he needs to smoke it just to feel human.

Pride lets a man be skewered on the point of other people’s expectations.

It’s an odd thing to be sad about someone in death that you never really cared for in life and a thing that chooses its own moment to sneak up on you—usually a damn inconvenient one—but

there it is . . . perhaps we hurt for the lost opportunities, for the conversation that would have released all the unspoken words, for the way it should have been.