The Mongoliad Quotes

“Every true heart needed a pragmatic counterweight, and every cynic an idealist to lift his spirits.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad: Book One

“War did not just level, it plowed the field, raising the muck and sinking the stubble.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad: Book One

“Many set themselves the aim of rescuing the indifferent and the lazy—and end up lost themselves. The flame within them gets dim with the passage of time. So, if you have the fire, run, since you never know when it may be doused, leaving you stranded in darkness. —”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“the group, as the knights preferred stallions—and knelt in the sun-dappled mud and grass of a narrow meadow. Raphael and Percival joined her, kneeling on the other side of the run, two steps back. Mongols at this late stage of their campaign often rode horses other than steppe ponies; war, as Feronantus had observed, was hard on horses, and armies continually replenished their stock. When Mongols rode larger and more complaisant Western horses,”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“in the group, as the knights preferred stallions—and knelt in the sun-dappled mud and grass of a narrow meadow. Raphael and Percival joined her, kneeling on the other side of the run, two steps back. Mongols at this late stage of their campaign often rode horses other than steppe ponies; war, as Feronantus had observed, was hard on horses, and armies continually replenished their stock. When Mongols rode larger and more complaisant Western horses,”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“flame within them gets dim with the passage of time. So, if you have the fire, run, since you never know when it may be doused, leaving you stranded in darkness. —John Climacus, The Ladder of Divine Ascent (Step”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“I doubt you even know what duty is,” she retorted. A risky response—such flippancy of the tongue—and it might provoke them, but showing fear would invite a response. Half of combat is causing your opponent to think you are stronger than you are, Gansukh had told her. Scarface”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“and two cats. He teaches medieval fighting techniques to members of the armed forces. The Mongoliad is his first published fiction. Erik Bear lives and writes in Seattle, Washington. He has written for a bestselling video game and is currently working on several comic book series. Cooper Moo spent five minutes”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“My lady," Percival began. He had called her that yesterday, and she had guessed it was some kind of elaborate sarcasm. But this didn't seem like the time for unpleasant jibes. Maybe it was just the way he'd been raised. Cnan wished she could meet Percival's mother. "I cannot recommend that you remain in that position," he said, "considering that hostile archers, in large numbers, are about to surround you.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad: Book One

“THE ROUGH TIMBERS of the monastery wall were aged and warped, and there were numerous gaps and holes in the wood. Covered in pitch, they were a poor defensive barrier, if they had ever been intended as such. Cnán and Finn approached the wood cautiously and dared to peek through the gaps. Whereupon”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“Through the uneven morning mist, she could make out the ruin of the monastery on the northern verge. The broken, roofless walls of outbuildings stretched south of the main ruins in a broken curve. Birches and a few young oaks had grown up where monks had likely once raised vegetables. The rest of the clearing was filled with grass and brambles cut through with newly blazed paths. Four lean-tos had been erected just beyond the stone fence of an overgrown graveyard.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“THE MONASTERY GATE was as weak as Finn surmised, the timbers splintering after three strong kicks from Finn’s boot. Using his spear as a wedge, he ripped and tore the rotted wood away until there was a large enough hole to pass through. After ducking and looking, he went first, leaping nimbly through the gap. Cnán followed, more readily and eagerly than she had anticipated, and Yasper came close on her heels.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“Cnán knew these gleaners and their types well enough that she could pick them out even in a healthy city. Not always were they the furtive criminals or crazed drunks. Indeed, within her short life, she had seen drunks rise to glorious battle and city fathers turn into ghouls. War did not just level, it plowed the field, raising the muck and sinking the stubble.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“All change happens because one man wants something different.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“Your horse whickers because he likes your manner,” Feronantus said. “He is coming to trust you. Horses are naive that way. Of all the savagery of war, I regret the disappointment and agony of the horses most of all.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“she had learned everything she could about this Feronantus—save, apparently, for the most important thing, which was that he was not of sound mind.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“After parting with a few coins and ensuring that his horse would be well cared for, Raphael made his way back to the inn. The green was deserted but for a few malingerers loitering around the pyre, and they glared at Raphael as if daring him to accuse them of being eager to see the judgment of God meted out. Raphael ignored them; he had seen far worse behavior in men during the Fifth Crusade, and while he did not like to dwell on his lack of moral outrage at such fiendishness, he had come to terms with a certain amount of pragmatism in the years since his first blooding as an exuberant initiate of the Ordo Militum Vindicis Intactae. Righteousness dwelt within the heart of a man, not within his hand or his sword.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“Many set themselves the aim of rescuing the indifferent and the lazy—and end up lost themselves. The flame within them gets dim with the passage of time. So, if you have the fire, run, since you”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“He had grown up in this forest. As a child, Otto had hunted rabbits along the band of white ash that grew along the track of the old river. He remembered the last time the wash filled with”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“All birds are bastards.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“In some ways, the battlefield is more civilized than court,” Lian said, somewhat wistfully. “A man’s worth is exactly how much glory his actions bring to his general.” Her tone hardened. “Here, a man’s worth is calculated by what he says and by what others say about him.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“Sometimes it was better to say nothing than to fill a void badly.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“Many set themselves the aim of rescuing the indifferent and the lazy—and end up lost themselves. The flame within them gets dim with the passage of time. So, if you have the fire, run, since you never know when it may be doused, leaving you stranded in darkness.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“His mind refused to accept that what he was hearing was laughter, and that it was coming from a human throat. He scrambled backward, and the shadowy figure leaped forward, grabbing at his trailing leg with an outstretched hand. As soon as its grip latched onto his ankle, he started screaming and kicking. The figure laughed, fighting to snare both his legs, and his cries of terror brought the other two back. They loomed over him, faces that he knew but that were distorted and pale in the moonlight. There”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“his whimper dying in his throat. There had been a flash of white moonlight reflecting off pale skin, and when the second one passed, he clapped his hand over his mouth to stifle his cry of terror at what he saw. The”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“In the bottoms, reeds grew thick and green in rain-swollen waterways; low, shrubby willows populated a patchwork of sandy islands; and other water-hardy stuff grew in such profusion that only the most wretched fugitives were to be found there. Merely to dwell in such a place was to confess oneself an outlaw or a witch. The valleys and ravines that drained into it were choked with trees, generally too small and mean to be of interest to any, save charcoal burners. The”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“fought a Chinese long-sword instructor on a Hong Kong rooftop—he never thought the experience would help him write battle scenes. In addition to being a member of the Mongoliad writing team, Cooper has written articles for various magazines. His autobiographical piece “Growing Up Black and White,” published in the Seattle Weekly, was awarded Social Issues Reporting Article of the Year by the Society of Professional Journalists. He lives in Issaquah, Washington, with his wife, three children, and numerous bladed weapons.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad

“Ego audio Domine. Animus humilis igitur sub potenti manu Dei est. Mundus sum ego, et absque delicto immaculatus. Verbum vester in me caro et ferrum erit.”
― Neal Stephenson, The Mongoliad