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“Pandora was a fiction written by men to blame the miseries of the world on women. I am not a fiction.
Snaps
“What’s the final refugee count?” I ask the centurion. “Eighty-three thousand four hundred and twenty-six souls, sir.” “Eighty-three thousand four hundred and twenty-six souls,” I say to Rhonna. “Not many are lucky enough to know how much their life is worth.”
as if all lowColors were paupers and slaves before the Rising.
They were you fucking dweeb
The victor writes history with the blood of the vanquished.
I tried to let it be his choice to help me, but in the end he leaves me no alternative but to force him as my grandmother taught. “I was there in Tyche when the water came in,” I lie.
God i hate you more every chapter you are an insufferable little shit
I’ve unfortunately noticed Alexandar no longer tongues his new teeth as he did when he arrived.
God i hate that this little shit is smart
I shoot Alexandar in the head.
WHAT i hate this sniveling little shit
He has been mutilated. Half his head is missing.
Pierce whag kind of sick fuck brings a beloved character essesntially back from the dead just to immediately kill him
I will not repeat past mistakes and rush to meet him. “Rhone! Bring him down!”
Fucking pussy
They’re in a panic, hauling at me, screaming to get behind them as they shoot. Then I see why. Darrow bulldozes toward me.
Yeah because everyone knows youre a weak little bitch with severe grand mommy issues
“You’re no…equal.”
Dont we all know it
Her love and hate are made of the same passion.
