Bannerless Quotes

“Did you think of anyone else?” Enid had asked the folk of this household. “Did you think of the next generation that’ll have to work this land and wonder why they’re getting half the yield they should? Or the ones who’ll starve when the land gives up because you”—she had pointed at them, with two stiff fingers—“couldn’t be bothered to take care of it?”
― Carrie Vaughn, Bannerless

“The worst storms were the ones that changed you. The ones you remembered not for how bad they objectively were, but for how much damage they did to your own world. Banners, planted in memory.”
― Carrie Vaughn, Bannerless

“As if death were a resource that had to be earned, that could ever be used up or wasted.”
― Carrie Vaughn, Bannerless

“They could remember the last Super Bowl and World Series and Olympics and the last movie they’d seen or concert they went to, but not when it was decided that there wouldn’t be another. The Fall didn’t leave a definitive mark on the memory of society, not like such a disaster should have. But personal memory remained. Kath always remembered exactly when her parents died, exactly the last time she spoke with her brother, and exactly when she herself left the old world behind. Right to the end, she’d been able to tell stories about her friends, the people who’d helped her and taken care of her, and spoken of where and how they died, from accident, disease, or simple old age. The world might not remember, but she would.”
― Carrie Vaughn, Bannerless

“Dak had a song he didn’t often sing for crowds, but saved for late nights around dying fires, when only the restless and bleary-eyed stuck around to listen. Enid had only heard it a couple of times, but she remembered it and sat up when he played it now. The chorus was about dust in the wind, and how everything would eventually blow away and come to naught. The melody was sad and haunting, a rain of notes plucked on the strings until they faded out, just a lingering vibration through the wood of the guitar. The sound seemed to carry, even after the song ended. “That was really sad,” one of the half dozen left on the patio said, and the words seemed rude somehow. Like after that they should have all just vanished without a word, melting into the night. “I learned it from an old man when I was just a little kid. He said it came from a place called Kansas.” Enid said, “I’ve seen Kansas on a map.” A crinkled atlas in the Haven library had the continent marked up into regions that didn’t mean much these days. “It’s over a thousand miles east of here.”
― Carrie Vaughn, Bannerless

“Are you sure this is necessary? I was hoping we could just leave Philos be.” Enid turned on her, glaring. After all Philos had done, after he’d potentially undermined the entire community, she could still say that? Would she argue that Philos and his household should avoid punishment, too? “Not angry at him anymore? I thought you wanted this.” Anguish pulled at her face. “I didn’t think . . . I didn’t expect . . .” She gave a frustrated sigh. “It’s the whole town. I thought it would just be him and Bounty. But it’s spread out to the whole town.” Enid stared. “It always does. That’s how it’s supposed to work.” She marched on.”
― Carrie Vaughn, Bannerless