Kavita Kané · 310 pages
Rating: (2.7K votes)
“Princess, you have decided to follow the hard path. I cannot promise you the life a royal princess deserves,' he began slowly. 'I am a wandered myself, stuck in an eternal search. I am a vagabond who doesn't know where I am going. My past beckons my present, but I can see only a blurred future. All my life, I have been slighted as a person of low birth- and the stigma will rub off on you as well. Yet, I am not ashamed of who I am...”
“I would rather devote myself to what I always did - trying to heal people. That is my way of healing myself.”
“She sometimes wished she was more thick-skinned, so that she could see nothing, feel nothing.”
“Karna is a good man, but he sees good even in what is bad. His seeing it as good doesn't make the bad good, but makes his goodness look bad.”
“The course of morality is subtle and even the most illustrious, wise people in this world fail to always understand it.”
“It is valour which defines a kshatriya, a kshatriya does not define valour. You are known by the deeds done; merit has no pedigree.”
“Karna a bad man doing good things or is he a good man doing bad things?”
“Condemning and condoning are two faces in the mirror; but it takes more courage to forgive than to criticize someone.”
“Karna gave a mirthless smile and replied evenly,'What is the use of a competition if one cannot be compared with others? Talk is the weapon of the weak; release your arrows instead of hollow words.”
“The bloodline of heroes—like the source of a mighty river—is never known.”
“Radheya has always been a rebel against caste and the social hierarchy,' her mother-in-law said, after a brief pause. 'He has constantly been cruelly reminded that as a sutaputra, he cannot aspire to more than he deserves, but he believes in his own worth.”
“How do you decide what is good and bad? The one who sees the bad in what is good is a bad man. Karna is a good man, but he sees good even in what is bad. His seeing it as good doesn’t make the bad good, but makes his goodness look bad.”
“Why, Uruvi always wondered, would Queen Madri consign herself to the flames, when no queen before her had joined their husband in the funeral pyre? Moreover, why would the mother of tiny, helpless six-month-old twins, Nakul and Sahadeva, kill herself and leave them orphaned and under the care of her husband’s first wife? It was strange. Had Madri, too, been mortally wounded like her husband, King Pandu, when they had been attacked? Had she been able to talk to Kunti before she died? Had Shakuni played up the curse of the sage to his advantage after all? If he could instigate Duryodhana to burn the Pandavas and the Queen Mother in the lac palace, he would not have any qualms in murdering King Pandu too. The only person who probably knew the truth was Kunti—but she was an evasive lady who knew how to keep her secrets. Uruvi recalled how she had pestered her on her wedding day about whether she had any regrets, but had got nothing out of her.”
“The test of courage is not to die but to live. And live with dignity and conviction every single day.’ He”
“You told me to look into the mirror each morning and be proud of myself, to do nothing that I would be ashamed of.”
“It is not what
has happened or what will happen that is relevant; what you do in the now is significant.
That defines your karma.”
“Failure often happens because we fail to recognize our strengths and our weaknesses.’ Krishna”
“You shall find dear, that the world is full of two-faced people and phonies.'.. And Uruvi was to discover a cruelly superficial world, which she had failed to recognize.”
“do what your heart tells you, not your pride.”
“Time is a drug. Too much of it kills you.”
“I may be a idiot, but most of the time, anyway, I tried to do the right thing, an dreams is just dreams, ain’t they? So whatever else has happened, I am figgerin this: I can always look back an say, at least I ain’t led no hum-drum life.”
“Finally, Cinder gulped. "I'm sorry I had to --" She gestured at the unconscious wedding coordinator, then waved her hand like shaking it off. "But she'll be fine, I swear. Maybe a little nauseous when she comes to, but otherwise...And your android...Nainsi, right? I had to disable her. And her backup processor. But any mechanic can return her to defaults in about six seconds, so..." She rubbed anxiously at her wrist. "Oh, and we ran into your captain of the guard in the hallway, and a few other guards, and I may have scared him and he's, um, unconscious. Also. But, really, they'll all be fine. I swear." Her lips twitched into a brief, nervous smile. "Um...hello, again. By the way.”
“Arelene's middle name was tolerance, mostly because she was too easygoing to take a moral stance.”
“Read it if you like or don't read it if you like. Because you make so little impression, you see. You get born and you try this and you don't know why only you keep on trying it and you are born at the same time with a lot of other people, all mixed up with them, like trying to, having to, move your arms and legs with string only the same strings are hitched to all the other arms and legs and the others all trying and they don't know why either except that the strings are all in one another's way like five or six people all trying to make a rug on the same loom only each one wants to weave his own pattern into the rug; and it can't matter, you know that, or the Ones that set up the loom would have arranged things a little better, and yet it must matter because you keep on trying and then all of a sudden it's all over and all you have left is a block of stone with scratches on it provided there was someone to remember to have the marble scratched and set up or had time to, and it rains on it and then sun shines on it and after a while they don't even remember the name and what the scratches were trying to tell, and it doesn't matter. And so maybe if you could go to someone, the stranger the better, and give them something-a scrap of paper-something, anything, it not to mean anything in itself and them not even to read it or keep it, not even bother to throw it away or destroy it, at least it would be something just because it would have happened, be remembered even if only from passing from one hand to another, one mind to another, and it would be at least a scratch, something, something that might make a mark on something that was once for the reason that it can die someday, while the block of stone can't be is because it never can become was because it can't ever die or perish...”
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