Conn Iggulden · 528 pages
Rating: (21.8K votes)
“Courage cannot be left like bones in a bag. It must be brought out and shown the light again and again, growing stronger each time. If you think it will keep for the times you need it, you are wrong. It is like any other part of your strength. If you ignore it, the bag will be empty when you need it most.”
“Your brother beat him almost to death, Temujin. He held him and kicked him until he cried like a child. He is afraid of you, so he hates you. It would be wrong to hurt him again. It would be like beating a dog after it has loosed it's bladder. The spirit is already broken in him.”
“I am the land, the bones of the hills," he said fiercely, "I am the winter. When I am dead, I will come for you all in the coldest nights.”
“No man could be a khan to his mother.”
“There was no justice in the world, but he had known that ever since the death of his father. The spirits took no part in the lives of men once they had been born. A man either endured what the world sent his way, or was crushed.”
“Be careful in your life, Tolui. I want you fit and strong for when I come for you.”
“He was the khan of Wolves and he feared no man. They would pay dearly for his skin.”
“He had a vision of a nation. The incredible martial skills of the Mongol tribes had always been wasted against each other. From nothing, surrounded by enemies, Temujin rose to unite them all. What came next would shake the world.”
“Temujin snorted. "Never lose faith in me, little brother. My word is iron and I will always come home.”
“We are the silver people, the Mongols. When they ask, tell them there are no tribes. Tell them I am khan of the sea of grass, and they will know me by that name, as Genghis. Yes, tell them that. Tell them that I am Genghis and I will ride.”
“The eagles ruled the air as the tribes ruled the land.”
“We feed the soil with our blood, our endless feuding,” he said after a time. “We always have, but that does not mean we always should. I have shown that a tribe can come from the Quirai, the Wolves, the Woyela, the Naimans. We are one people, Arslan. When we are strong enough, I will make them come to me, or I will break them one at a time. I tell you we are one people. We are Mongols, Arslan. We are the silver people and one khan can lead us all.”
“You are drunk, or dreaming,” Arslan replied, ignoring his son’s discomfort. “What makes you think they would ever accept you?”
“I am the land,” Temujin replied. “And the land sees no difference in the families of our people.”
“I will kill them,” Temujin promised, rage kindling in him. “I will burn them and eat their flesh if they do.” “That will bring you peace, but it will not change anything for Borte,” Hoelun said. “What else can I do? She cannot kill them as I could, or force them to kill her, even. Nothing that happens is her fault.” He found himself crying and wiped angrily at bloody tears on his cheeks. “She trusted me.” “You cannot make this right, my son. Not if they escape your brothers. If you find her alive, you will have to be patient and kind.” “I know that! I love her; that is enough.” “It was,” Hoelun persisted. “It may not be enough any longer.”
“A multitude of rulers is not a good thing. Let there be one ruler, one king.”
“My son's name is Temujin," he said. "He will be iron.”
“They cannot stand alone against us,” Temujin said. “We will take them one by one.”
“The greatest joy a man can know is to conquer his enemies and drive them before him. To ride their horses and take away their possessions, to see the faces of those who were dear to them bedewed with tears, and to clasp their wives and daughters in his arms.”
“You do not hunt a man who comes looking for you," Temujin reminded him softly.”
“They are the great tribe," Temujin replied, almost to himself. His voice was so quiet that Kachiun had to strain to hear. "I will give them a family again. I will bring them in and I will make them hard and I will send them against those who killed our father. I will write the name of Yesugei in Tartar blood and, when we are strong, I will come back from the north and scatter the Wolves in the snow.”
“To be betrayed by those he trusted seems to have ignited a spark of vengeance in Temujin, a desire for power that never left him. His childhood experiences created the man he would become, who would not bend or allow fear or weakness in any form. He cared nothing for possessions or wealth, only that his enemies fall.”
“Um homem forte pode dobrar o céu a seu favor, mas só para si mesmo, sabia Temujin.”
“This book could not have been written without the people of Mongolia, who allowed me to live among them for a time and who taught me their history over salted tea and vodka while the winter eased into spring.”
“There was no justice in the world—unless he made it for himself. Unless he cut twice as deep as he had been cut and gave back blow for blow. He had the right.”
“Unaware of them all, Temujin began to chant words he had not heard since old Chagatai had whispered them on a frozen night long before. The shaman’s chant spoke of loss and revenge, of winter, ice, and blood. He did not have to struggle to recall the words; they were ready on his tongue as if he had always known them.”
“We will survive this, my sons. We will survive until you are men, and when Eeluk is old, he will wonder if it is you coming for him every time he hears hooves in the darkness.”
“Keep him alive," he whispered to the sky father. "Keep him strong and healthy. Keep him alive, for me to kill.”
“There was no justice in the world and evil men prospered. Kachiun struggled not to despair as he wrapped his deel around him, but there were times when he hated as ferociously as Temujin did. There should be justice. There should be revenge.”
“They were few, but they were hardened in fire. They had been cast out and many would hunger as he did: for a tribe, and for a chance to strike back at a world that had abandoned them.
“It is begun here,” Temujin whispered. “I have had enough of hiding. Let them hide from me.”
“You will revenge my father's death and we will be one tribe across the face of the plains, one people. As it should always have been. Let the Tartars fear us then. Let the Chin fear us.”
“There is no good talking to him," said a Dragon-fly, who was sitting on the top of a large brown bulrush; "no good at all, for he has gone away."
"Well, that is his loss, not mine," answered the Rocket. "I am not going to stop talking to him merely because he pays no attention. I like hearing myself talk. It is one of my greatest pleasures. I often have long conversations all by myself, and I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying."
"Then you should definitely lecture on Philosophy," said the Dragon-fly.”
“I won't forgive this wrong done to me and my house, whoever it was that killed my boys, I shall put a curse on their house that they will have no first born son to inherit. Whoever took my son will lose his son. He will spend his life longing for an heir. He will bury his first born and long for him, for I cannot even bury mine.”
“I hugged my knees to my chest, desperately trying to hold myself together so I didn’t splinter into a thousand pieces. If I let go, no one would ever be able to put the pieces together again.”
“He was like this when I got here?' That's you alibi?”
“So softly Lizzy has to lean over to hear me, I say, 'I can't face the world until I know why I'm here.'
You're kidding me.'
I shake my head vehemently. 'No. I need to figure out my purpose. Until I do, what's the use of getting up?”
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