Hild (The Hild Sequence, #1)

by Nicola Griffith

Then she remembered the way he sometimes turned in his saddle and touched his sword, remembered the relief when the son of Morcant did not fight, and understood that a king never felt safe.

Fursey says it’s to imitate the long breath of god.”

‘And I am needy and poor. God, hasten for me. You are my help and saviour. O Lord, do not delay.’”

“Does God ever smile, except perhaps at His more extravagant jokes?”

Those silly boys had disembowelled men and played kickball with children’s heads.

Being a hero wasn’t like in the songs.

The apple in his throat did not bobble.

she would not call it an adam’s apple which came first adam or the apple

“Dogs own space and cats own time.”

“Maybe she doesn’t want another just yet,” Gwladus said. “Maybe she doesn’t want pawing at, and swelling, and nothing to look forward to but a growing ache in her back and the thing in her belly eating her from the inside.”

The thegns were wrong. The Christ and his priests were different. They were a storm that would change everything. They read. They would sweep the beach clean.

“Shouldn’t you be praying to the Christ?” “Ah,” her mother said, and smiled. “I forgot.”

Christ was a carpenter. Why did his priests build with stone?

Why were there no women priests?

“God made our bodies. And God is love. Love is never wrong. And so love of bodily joy, I think the Christ would agree, is never wrong.” He picked up his cup. “Except when it becomes greed. Which leads to gluttony. Which is most definitely a sin.” “How can you tell the difference?” “That, dear child, is a mystery. For today, let us say five cups of wine is love, and six gluttony.”