“I was thinking, "So, I’m Emperor, am I? What nonsense! But at least I'll be able to make people read my books now.”
“I made no more protests. What was the use of struggling against fate”
“Let all the poison that lurks in the mud, hatch out.”
“there are two different ways of writing history: one is to persuade men to virtue and the other is to compel men to truth.”
“And what thoughts or memories, would you guess, were passing through my mind on this extraordinary occasion? Was I thinking of the Sibyl's prophecy, of the omen of the wolf-cub, of Pollio's advice, or of Briseis's dream? Of my grandfather and liberty? Of my grandfather and liberty? Of my three Imperial predecessors, Augustus, Tiberius, Caligula, their lives and deaths? Of the great danger I was still in from the conspirators, and from the Senate, and from the Gaurds battalions at the Camp? Of Messalina and our unborn child? Of my grandmother Livia and my promise to deify her if I ever became Emperor? Of Postumus and Germanicus? Of Agrippina and Nero? Of Camilla? No, you would never guess what was passing through my mind. But I shall be frank and tell you what it was, though the confession is a shameful one. I was thinking, 'So, I'm Emperor, am I? What nonsense! But at least I'll be able to make people read my books now. Public recitals to large audiences. And good books too, thirty-five years' hard work in them. It wont be unfair. Pollio used to get attentive audiences by giving expensive dinners. He was a very sound historian, and the last of the Romans. My history of Carthage is full of amusing anecdotes. I'm sure that they'll enjoy it.”
“I, Tiberius Claudius Drusus Nero Germanicus This-that-and-the-other (for I shall not trouble you yet with all my titles) who was once, and not so long ago either, known to my friends and relatives and associates as "Claudius the Idiot", or "That Claudius", or "Claudius the Stammerer", or "Clau-Clau-Claudius" or at best as "Poor Uncle Claudius", am now about to write this strange history of my life; starting from my earliest childhood and continuing year by year until I reach the fateful point of change where, some eight years ago, at the age of fifty-one, I suddenly found myself caught in what I may call the "golden predicament" from which I have never since become disentangled.”
“To recommend a monarchy on account of the prosperity it gives the provinces seems to me like recommending that a man should have liberty to treat his children as slaves, if at the same time he treats his slaves with reasonable consideration.”
“I have done many impious things--no great ruler can do otherwise. I have put the good of the Empire before all human considerations. To keep the Empire free from factions I have had to commit many crimes.”
“That the crowd always likes a holiday is a common saying, but when the whole year becomes one long holiday, and nobody has time for attending to his business, and pleasure becomes compulsory, then it is a different matter.”
“The conversation was like the sort one has in dreams—mad but interesting.”
“He was always boasting of his ancestors, as stupid people do who are aware that they have done nothing themselves to boast about.”
“The gift of independence once granted cannot be lightly taken away again.”
“Those that can’t beat the ass, beat the saddle.”
“The first thing that happened was that Helen became an invalid - we know now that there was nothing wrong with her, but Livilla had given her the choice of taking to her bed as if she were ill or taking to her bed because she was ill.”
“I am supposed to be an utter fool and the more I read the more of a fool they think me.”
“Sir Piers spent the whole exercise shouting. I was convinced someone had told him the louder he yelled, the harder we'd try. It didn't work.”
“Oh, you are a little ray of sunshine today, aren’t you? Now, look at your progesterone levels. Still higher than normal. Are you pregnant? Have you been throwing up?”
“No. But I get cravings. Will I get stretch marks?” said Fi.
Gilamar kept a straight face. “Yeah, say goodbye to your figure. Everything sags from now on.”
“wanted that to be my bedroom,” he says. “It’d be so easy to sneak out at night to TP yards, egg cars, and punch people.” Yes, Stevie has an active social life.”
“She forced herself to turn back to Luke, who’d closed his eyes but was now gripping her hand with renewed intensity. “I love you,” she said, but her words were swallowed up by the screams all around them. Suddenly, with a bone-shaking crack, the dropship slammed into Earth, and everything went black. In the distance, Glass heard a low, guttural moaning, a sound full of more anguish than anything she’d ever heard. She tried to open her eyes, but the slightest effort sent her head into a sickening spin. She gave up and allowed herself to sink back into the darkness. A few moments passed. Or was it a few hours? Again, she struggled against the comforting quiet, fighting her way toward consciousness. For a sweet, groggy millisecond, she had no idea where she was. All she could focus on was the barrage of strange smells. Glass hadn’t known it was possible to smell so many things at once: There was something she sort of recognized from the solar fields—her favorite spot to meet Luke—but amplified a thousand times over. There was something sweet, but not like sugar or perfume. Deeper, richer. Every breath she took sent her brain into overdrive as it struggled to identify the swirling scents. Something spicy. Metallic. Then a familiar scent jolted her brain to attention. Blood. Glass’s”
“Occasionally he stumbled over the truth, but hastily picked himself up and hurried on as if nothing had happened.”
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