The Fall of Babel (The Books of Babel, #4)

by Josiah Bancroft

I think it’s perfectly all right to be frightened. Sometimes the fear of change is just an expression of love for the life you had. That’s nothing to be ashamed of. I like who we were. And I like who you are, and I suspect I’ll like who you will be, too.”

I try not to dwell on my mistakes because it doesn’t change them; it only changes me. I cannot live inside those awful moments, those naive blunders and prideful errors. It would drive me mad if I did.”

Byron had read that a fawn born in the morning could walk by the evening. Shark pups were birthed swimming, snapping, and eager to feed. But the human race came into the world with all the physical prowess of a custard and all the independence of a pimple.

“Well, now I realize the thing about ambition is that it only seats a party of one. If ambition could be shared, our race would be in a much better spot!”

He looked like a regent’s visage printed on a bank note, softened by a thousand pockets, halved by as many wallets, creased and broken by repeated exchange. He looked as if he should be removed from circulation.