The Wisdom of Crowds (The Age of Madness #3)

by Joe Abercrombie

Those who’ve snatched power always fear it’ll be snatched away.

“My master, Bayaz, is gravely concerned by recent events!” called Sulfur. “In the Union he founded. In the city he built.” He gestured towards Orso, who was sitting back and holding out his goblet for a refill. “To the king he crowned.” “Do thank your master for his concern,” replied Risinau, “but tell him he should keep it for himself!” Laughter at that, and an approving banging of fists on benches. “The free people of the Union have no further need of his meddling!” Sulfur’s eyes narrowed. “How soon you all forget. It was within your lifetimes that he saved Adua from the terrors of the Eaters!” “By destroying half the city and causing the deaths of thousands!” called Risinau. “Bayaz saved us from the Eaters, perhaps, but one wonders… who will save us from Bayaz?”

“I could tire of the wisdom of crowds,” Vick whispered to herself.

love a good title drop

“History is not the story of battles between right and wrong, but between one man’s right and another’s. Evil is not the opposite of good. It is what we call another man’s notion of good when it differs from ours.”

Times change, he supposed. The winners are those who change with them.

Her mother had always warned her a man is judged by his best moment, a woman by her worst.

Don’t matter how savage a face you show the world, few men dare look the Great Leveller in the eye once he comes calling.

That’s marriage. People change, and not always in the way you want, and you’re chained together anyway.

“Vanity, a loud voice and a loose relationship with the truth,” whispered Zuri. “All the qualities of a successful politician.”

The past isn’t made of facts, not really, just stories people tell to make themselves feel better. To make themselves look better.

But laws did not appear at all the rigid pillars they once had. If the Great Change had proved anything, it was that—with enough force, with enough fear—one could bend them into whatever knots one pleased.

There was a red stain across Gorst’s eye above the flatbow bolt. But the other one rolled up towards Leo. It seemed, somehow, he still had that smile. “Do you believe…” His voice sounded much like anyone else’s, whispering. “In redemption?” “I don’t fucking care.” “You’re young. Give it time.”

Maybe everyone follows in their parents’ footsteps, doomed to blunder into the same mistakes like a blind man into furniture. All our paths set before birth, inevitable, like Curnsbick’s useless fucking cart, only running on the rails it’s given. The only choice you have is how fast you’ll roll to the end of the line.