"All Embassytown had had was its monopoly on Language, and with EzRa, Bremen had tried to break that."
"What do we know about Ez and Ra? They weren’t doppels. But maybe what they did share was important. Hate. We’re not training a new Ambassador, we’re distilling a drug. We have to replicate every ingredient we know about. We need the Turn to hate the Cut. A voice tearing itself apart."" 'My question is, do you think Cal knows he’ll do it, yet?' Probably, I thought. He must know what his duty would be: to become symbiont with the man who had destroyed his history, future and brother."
"We would have to reestablish ways of communicating our needs to the Ariekei, and working out what we offered. Somewhere in that city now trying to rouse itself there must be those Hosts with which we had established understandings, which might now be able to take some kind of control again, with which we could deal. It wouldn’t be a healthy polity. A few in control of their addiction would rule over those not, compradors at our behest: a narcocracy of language. We’d have to be careful pushers of our product."
"“Because I think I have in fact a pretty solid fucking idea why— if you don’t know what’s happening to Language how do you know what’ll happen to Ambassadors, huh?"
"I’d never understood the injunction not to regret anything, couldn’t see how that wasn’t cowardice, but not only did I not regret the out, but nor, suddenly, did I the return. Nor even Scile."
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