The Obelisk Gate (The Broken Earth, #2)

by N.K. Jemisin

After all, a person is herself, and others. Relationships chisel the final shape of one’s being. I am me, and you.

Alabaster, beloved monster, sane madman, the most powerful orogene in all the Stillness, and in-progress stone eater snack, stares at you.

The Schaffa that we have known thus far, the Schaffa whom Damaya learned to fear and Syenite learned to defy, is now dead. What remains is a man with a habit of smiling, a warped paternal instinct, and a rage that is not wholly his own driving everything he does from this point on. Perhaps you will mourn the Schaffa who is lost. It’s all right if you do. He was part of you, once.)

The pity of a disguised stone eater has galvanized you as the screams of a fellow human being haven’t. Such a monster you are.)

Life cannot exist without the Earth.

“You need to give me a reason to trust you.” His eyes narrow. “You don’t trust me by now?” “You’ve destroyed the world, Alabaster. You’ve told me you want me to make it worse. I’m not hearing a whole lot here that screams, ‘Obey me without question.’”

You’re fire, Nassun. You’re lightning, dangerous unless captured in wires. But if you can control yourself through pain, I’ll know you’re safe.

There’s no need to imagine the planet as some malevolent force seeking vengeance. It’s a rock. This is just how life is supposed to be: terrible and brief and ending in—if you’re lucky—oblivion.

“You want me to catch the fucking Moon?”