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"Sharath is a hugely prolific Tamil Nadu batter. All of Madras believes he deserves to play for India but is unfairly kept out. He keeps scoring runs after runs for Tamil Nadu but cannot make it to international cricket. He is thirty now."

Only hardcore cricket fans know about S. Sharath in the 90s and how gritty he was!

"Being tired, I am prone to falling asleep midway. Often, I am woken up from deep sleep by Appa lest I miss a good game. When Sachin single-handedly carries India to the final of the Sharjah Cup in 1998, I'm already asleep because of the desert storm break."

The same thing has happened to me! ☺️

Heroes are forged in times of great peril by the desperate need for power to defend what they hold dear. When the threat is gone and their attained power yet remains, the lines become blurred. What was once a friend and ally becomes nothing but competition.

He knew she could understand him. Maybe not in the way humans understood each other, but there was intelligence in those dull yellow eyes. Dragons were more perceptive than most gave them credit for.

The mathematical order is beautiful precisely because it has no effect on the real world. Life isn't going to be easier, nor is anyone going to make a fortune, just because they know something about prime numbers.

Just as the thought of a caramel can cause your mouth to water, the mere mention of prime numbers made us anxious to know more about their secrets.

We called him the Professor. And he called my son Root, because, he said, the flat top of his head reminded him of the square root sign.

Discipline is the key, Watson. Indulge some vices but never all of them at the same time.

The coming of the Zamindar always brings in grim tidings.

She knew he was telling the truth, the kind of unsavory truth that only monsters were at liberty to tell. He had no need to flatter or cajole; he had no philosophy to debate, or sermon to deliver. His awful nakedness was a kind of sophistication. Past the lies of faith, and into purer realms.

"Good food takes time," she said, "as do good stories."

Some of the most important decisions we make in life are not derived from reason, from weighing the fish, from an evaluation of the pros and cons - but from a simple leap of faith, of love that needs no evidence, apology, or argument.

A lie becomes the truth when enough people had reasons to pretend it was true.

As I said, anything is possible, given the time and the will. We had the time. We had the will.

The story of how I left Huckleberry begins - as do all worthy stories - with a goat.

Human technology was good, and weapon to weapon humans were as well-equipped as the vast majority of their adversaries. But the weapon that ultimately matters is the one behind the trigger.

Making peace is often a simple thing, but simple isn’t the same thing as easy.

It isn't the achievement of victory that makes a leader noble, but the willingness to fight for what is right in her heart even when the defeat is certain.

"A piece of jade wrapped in a dust rag remains a piece of jade," said Zomi. "But dog turds wrapped in silk will stink up the room." 😂😂😂

'Everton (Weekes), you're looking good,' I complimented him. 'What are you doing to keep fit?'

After taking a sip from his Scotch, he said, 'Ian, I swim every morning around six. In the morning the fluid is on the outside - in the evening it's on the inside.'

"Honor is not everything, Mata," said Kuni as he nursed the spot on his shoulder where the first shoe had struck. "Sometimes parents just want their children to be safe and ordinary."

The best followers are those who think it was their own idea to follow you.

In vengeance, even a rabbit can learn to become a wolf.

Master Sollis says a man doesn't know his true strength until he fears for his life.

War is blood and shit and men maddened with pain calling for their mothers as they bleed to death. There's no honour in it, boy.

The same trait of self-effacement was seen as a virtue in UPA-1 and a weakness in UPA-2.

The days when the Planning Commission was composed entirely of subject experts were long gone. Various political and social quotas had now to be filled. North, South, scheduled caste, woman, minority. In the era of coalitions, every constituent political party wanted to name a member. For the PM, himself a former deputy chairman, the Planning Commission had become the place where he could park a trusted aide.

He groaned, remembering the bombs and the explosions, and tried to spit the dirt out of his mouth, except he had no spit left. He hadn't got much of anything left.

The great equaliser, his old man had called it. It didn't matter how big a man was or what weapons were being waved about, a boot in the balls stopped them all.

Jax hated the feel of the scimitar. The weight was unbalanced - all in the blade and none in the hilt. A brutal weapon. He'd give anything for a decent Shulka blade instead. Even better if he still had his right hand to wield it, but he was stuck with what he had. A shit sword and one arm.