Pale Lights Quotes

“the golden-haired goddess, still taunting him with rolled up eyes, walked backwards straight into a tree. This did not actually hurt her in any way, but as tended to be the way when she ran into things without noticing Fortuna emerged on the other side glaring at the tree as if she had been personally attacked. However grim the situation, watching the Lady of Long Odds begin yet another implacable blood feud with an inanimate object did wonders for his mood.

She’d once spent an entire month trying to talk him into tearing down a worn statue of Emperor Pere after passing through it mid-sentence. Tristan, naturally, had instead paid the matron of the house across the street to thoroughly clean it. Best nine radizes he’d ever spent.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“There are only so many creatures out there matching the description of ‘a cat that looks like it ate several other cats’.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“Fishing his tricorn out of the bag he’d put it in for the crossing, the thief patted the worst of the dust off it and put it back on. Much better.

“You do know that hat is a decade out of fashion, yes?” Lady Ferranda amusedly said.

The infanzona looked bruised and tired, but like him the relief at escaping Cantica was lending her a second breath.

“The current fashion involves feathers, Villazur,” Tristan disdainfully replied. “If I were meant to be a bird, I would have been born one.”

The infanzona traced the Circle on her left shoulder, lips twitching.

“That’s heresy,” she informed him. “Palingenesism, to be exact. Only Someshwari cults argue the Circle can spin us into animals.”

“Well, they must have the right of it,” the thief easily said, “for how would you explain the Cerdan if not a past life as some manner of pig?”

She choked, and was still laughing when Song emerged from the gap and asked what they were speaking about.

“The heresy inherent to the porcine condition,” he told the Tianxi.

“I am impressed that you would admit to being pig-headed,” Song replied without batting an eye, “but it is hardly heresy, Tristan. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“Softly, almost hesitantly, she clasped his hand back. It had been years since someone simply held his hand like that. Had it been as long for her, he wondered? Looking at the faint wonder on her face, he thought it might have.

And that he did not want to take back his hand scared him more than anything else on this island had.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“There’s a satisfaction to shouting down into the well, but it’s no replacement for a bucket.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“If you’re a blackcloak,” Roxane gravely asked, “then why aren’t you wearing a black cloak?”

Maryam might have been irritated by the question, if not by the painful earnestness on her face. The messy auburn bob and slightly too long sleeves only added to the effect.

“I am secret blackcloak,” Maryam replied. “On a secret mission.”

“Then why’s your captain drinking booze in the common room?” Roxane wondered.

The Izvorica considered that a moment.

“Because he’s an asshole,” she finally said.

“Oh, so like Master Alexios,” Roxane mused.

Maryam cocked an eyebrow.

“He spilled wax on our only translation of the Medead and told Lady Eumelia it was me,” Roxane informed her with a scowl. “It wasn’t, I wasn’t even there.”

“I believe you,” Maryam assured her.

What would she have wanted as a bribe, when she was nine years old? Desserts, spending money, or maybe – ah!

“Would you like me to curse him?” she offered.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“Watch the dice roll and tumble
To yield of glee and grumbles
And if every god we do condemn
Why never the hand that threw them?

- a verse by Ilaria”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“To join the court of cats
is most easily done:
solemnly swear that none
ever did fall flat.

To leave the court of cats
is even simpler done,
For when their hunger comes
rats are ever sport

- The Court of Cats, from Ilaria's Little Lies”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“So if she has a Golden Ram contract, they’re definitely riding that horse to a coup,” Tristan summed up.

“Rams are bovids, Tristan,” Maryam sneered at him. “It’s not even the same family.”

“No one would ride a ram to a coup, Maryam, think of the stairs,” he scorned right back.

“I am definitely imagining you going down a set,” she said.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Funny you would mention bovids, since you’re being a bit of a co-”

“Tristan,” Angharad cut in, outraged. “She is a lady.”

“Well,” he defended, “I wasn’t calling her a bull.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“A slip of a girl, Lierganen and fair-haired, was skulking around the part of Templeward where there were teahouses – and so occasionally freshly baked goods insufficiently watched. The moment he approached she scowled.

“I’m not going to school,” she firmly told him. “I don’t care what Mom says, they’re teaching us triangle stuff.”

Her voice strongly conveyed this was a fate worse than death.

“I agree with her,” Fortuna mused, leaning against his shoulder. “They feel more arrogant than squares and they don’t even have as many sides.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“The thief smiled, not that the other man could see it.

“Why, Bait, there is no need for such glumness,” Tristan said. “I can tell we are kindred souls, you and I.”

A pause.

“Yes,” Bait tried, though it sounded like a question.

“Naturally I will return your notes to you,” the thief said. “We are friends, aren’t we? I like to help my friends.”

Bait twisted around to glance at him as much as he could, which was not very much.

“Could you,” he hopefully said, “take your knife off my throat then, friend?”

“No,” Tristan said.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“But then no one else can balance those scales for us, can they?”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“Let’s live, Tristan,” Maryam smiled. “After that, it would be embarrassing not to.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“Love is sweet, a heady brew,
but my hand must be won fair
Sweet love, what will you swear
as troth if your love is true?

I promise the stars in a cup
and the sea in your hand.
a hall reaching the clouds;
a hearth where hundreds sup

Wed me, be my fair wife
And these will all be yours
I swear this on my life
And the life that will be ours

I give you then my hand,
Promised in salt and air
And by your side will stand
The wife that you won fair

Here! Stars reflected in wine,
a seashell held to your ear,
the mountain I claim as mine,
and a hearth rats do not fear

Sweet love, I find no fault
and leave now in your care
this hand of air and salt:
the wife that you won fair.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“You do,” he firmly said. “Me, an assassin? Perish the thought.”

Sarai snorted, but the mirth caught in her throat as he continued speaking.

“No one paid me, so more accurately speaking I would be a murderer.”

She choked on that, though the surprise did not silence her for long.

“Are you telling me,” Sarai got out, “that you are not even gainfully employed?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“You are a deep disappointment, Tristan,” she solemnly informed him. “I thought you a man of means.”

“Alas, I have but methods,” he confessed.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“The dark-haired woman strode through the throng of blackcloaks, some of them snickering, and for a heartbeat it looked like she was going to embrace him.

Instead she slapped his hat down against his chest.

“There,” Maryam said. “I tried to sell it, but it was such a raggedy thing I could find no takers.”

“Blind and a poor haggler, then,” Tristan mused, setting it back on his head. “It’s a lucky thing I made it back. What would you do without me?”

“Luck,” she said. “When the pebble stays stuck in your boot after the shake, is that what you call it?”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights

“Power’s like an oil lamp, Maryam,” Wen Duan said. “It’s useful to have, but if you swing it around recklessly something’s going to catch on fire. If you’re lucky, something that deserves it.”

His smile was sharp.

“Most of the time, we aren’t lucky.”
― ErraticErrata, Pale Lights