More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
But she also didn’t want to make it stop. The anger was a shield. The anger helped her to keep from remembering what she’d done. Because as long as she was angry, then it was okay—she’d acted within reason. She was afraid that if she stopped being angry, she might crack apart.
She wanted to see it—she needed to dance at the edge of this memory that she did not have, skirting between the godlike cold indifference of a murderer and the crippling guilt of the deed.
time. Eventually you learn to exist on the precipice of insanity.”
Revolution is fine in theory. But nobody wants to die.”
“Great Tortoise. That’s a nice ship.” “What do you mean, that’s a nice ship?” “I mean, if that ship were a person, I would fuck that ship,”
“‘You asked how large my sorrow is,’” Nezha recited. Rin recognized the line—it was from a poem she’d studied a lifetime ago, a lament by an Emperor whose last words became exam material for future generations. “‘And I answered, like a river in spring flowing east.’”
“You spend your whole life chasing after some illusion you think is real, only to realize you’re a damned fool, and that if you reach any further, you’ll drown.”
“You just have to make it through the next five seconds. Then the next five. Then on and on.”
“I used to be scared of war,” she finally said. “Then I realized I was very good at it. And I’m not sure I’d be good at anything else.”
Sometimes the best offensive is false acquiescence.
“People will seek to use you or destroy you. If you want to live, you must pick a side. So do not shirk from war, child. Do not flinch from suffering. When you hear screaming, run toward it.”
“They’re militarized lily pads. Isn’t that great?”
