“Home isn't where you're from, it's where you find light when all grows dark.”
“There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extrovert.”
“Friendships take minutes to make, moments to break, years to repair.”
“I will die. You will die. We will all die and the universe will carry on without care. All that we have is that shout into the wind - how we live. How we go. And how we stand before we fall.”
“Wise men read books about history. Strong men write them.”
“It's not victory that makes a man. It's his defeats.”
“He always thinks because I’m reading, I’m not doing anything. There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extroverted.”
“You're a sinister little shit, aren't you?" Victra asks.
"I'm Gold, bitch. What'd you expect? Warm milk and cookies just because I'm pocket sized?”
“For seven hundred years, my people have been enslaved without voice, without hope. Now I am their sword. And I do not forgive. I do not forget. So let him lead me onto his shuttle. Let him think he owns me. Let him welcome me into his house, so I might burn it down.”
“Rise so high, in mud you lie.”
“Hic sunt leones. Here be lions.”
“They say a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. They made no mention of the heart.”
“Everyone's honest till they're caught in a lie.”
“We are not our station in life. We are us - the sum of what we've done, what we want to do, and the people who we keep close.”
“A fool pulls the leaves. A brute chops the trunk. A sage digs the roots.”
“You meet a man, you know him. You meet a woman, she knows you.”
“If you're a fox, play the hare. If you're the hare, play the fox.”
“Let him think he owns me. Let him welcome me into his house, so I might burn it down.”
“And what is the bloodydamn point of surviving in this cold world if I run from the only warmth it has to offer?”
“He always thinks because I'm reading, I'm not doing anything. There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extroverted.”
“Now I am their sword. And I do not forgive. I do not forget. So let him lead me onto his shuttle. Let him think he owns me. Let him welcome into his house, so I might burn it down.
But then his daughter takes my hand, and I feel all the lies fall heavy on my shoulders. They say a kingdom divided against itself cannot stand. They made no mention of the heart.”
“Home isn’t where you’re from, it’s where you find light when all grows dark.”
“In a storm, you don't tie two boats together. They'll drag each other down.”
“You are but a mortal," Roque whispers in my ear, riding his horse alongside the chariot, as per tradition.
"And a whorefart," Servo calls from the other side.
"Yes," Roque agrees solemnly. "That too.”
“Tradition is the crown of the tyrant.”
“Do you ever feel lost?” The question hangs between us, intimate, awkward only on my end. He doesn’t scoff as Tactus and Fitchner would, or scratch his balls like Sevro, or chuckle like Cassius might have, or purr as Victra would. I’m not sure what Mustang might have done. But Roque, despite his Color and all the things that make him different, slowly slides a marker into the book and sets it on the nightstand beside the four-poster, taking his time and allowing an answer to evolve between us. Movements thoughtful and organic, like Dancer’s were before he died. There’s a stillness in him, vast and majestic, the same stillness I remember in my father. “Quinn once told me a story.” He waits for me to moan a grievance at the mention of a story, and when I don’t, his tone sinks into deeper gravity. “Once, in the days of Old Earth, there were two pigeons who were greatly in love. In those days, they raised such animals to carry messages across great distances. These two were born in the same cage, raised by the same man, and sold on the same day to different men on the eve of a great war. “The pigeons suffered apart from each other, each incomplete without their lover. Far and wide their masters took them, and the pigeons feared they would never again find each other, for they began to see how vast the world was, and how terrible the things in it. For months and months, they carried messages for their masters, flying over battle lines, through the air over men who killed one another for land. When the war ended, the pigeons were set free by their masters. But neither knew where to go, neither knew what to do, so each flew home. And there they found each other again, as they were always destined to return home and find, instead of the past, their future.”
“I didn't mind that it was always about you, Darrow. That was what burned Tactus, but not me. I'm not in love with you like Mustang. I don't worship you like Sevro or the Howlers. I was a true friend. I was someone who saw your light and your dark and accepted both without judgement, without agenda...”
“There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extroverted.”
“We’re all just wounded souls stumbling about in the dark, desperately trying to stitch ourselves together, hoping to fill the holes they ripped in us.”
“what red lips you have," he said in her ear. Did she dare say it? "All the better to kiss you with, my dear," she replied. And then their lips met.”
“Make use of the opportunity to have a bath yourself. I can not only guess the age and breed of your horse, but also its color, by the smell.”
“It had been wonderful and they had been truly happy and he had not known that you could love anyone so much that you cared about nothing else and other things seemed inexistent.”
“Willow, you know that you said you couldn't tell how I felt at the rest stop?"
I nodded, and he took my hand, laying it flat on his chest with his own resting over it. "Can you tell now?" he asked.
His heart beat firmly under my hand; my own pulse was pounding so hard that I could barely think straight. Closing my eyes, I took a deep, steadying breath, and then another as I tried to clear my mind, to feel what he was feeling. For a moment there was just the softness of our breathing--then all at once it washed over me in a great wave.
He was in love with me, too.
I opened my eyes. Alex was still holding my hand to his chest, watching me, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it. Unable to speak, I slowly dropped my hand and wrapped my arms around him. His own arms came around me as he rested his head on my hair.
"I really do, you know," he said, his voice rough.
"I know," I whispered back. "I do, too.”
“They were the best of friends as long as they did not know they were supposed to be enemies. The truth would do its damage soon enough.
- Brothers in Fire, by Jedtare”
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