The King of Shadows (Matthew Corbett #8)

by Robert McCammon

what was love without a little foolishness in the mix?

As much time as I can command, for time in this instance would be worth more to me than all the gold that has even been mined or ever will be mined in the remainder of the world’s existence.”

… I have become what many would call a freak. And therefore I find some comfort in knowing that the world of the strange and freakish is very large indeed, and far surpasses the territory of rational reason.”

“Obviously,” Hudson said quietly to Matthew, “here we have a failure to communicate.”

Guard your mind. It is your own palace.

What was the message of the church? Fear God. Fear death. Fear tragedies of all natures. Fear betrayal. Fear disease. Fear injury. Fear the creeping claw of age. Fear life itself, with all its range of ills and calamities. It was rampant naked fear that the Black Crow preached, and now his son stood in its limelight. He understood … and he liked it.

No. You are on your own in this life and—what is more—after this life you are snuffed out like a candle, never to awaken again from the darkness.

He who forgets the past is a traitor to himself.’

“Too much thinking isn’t good on an empty stomach.”

An old soldier with a bottle and time on his hands to ruminate was a bad mixture.