“si una mentira se repetía con la frecuencia suficiente, hasta los que sabían que era una mentira la consideraban pronto como si fuese verdad.”
“So anyhow, all your goddamn poets will write tired sonnets about the good old days when the noblemen kicked the piss out of the peasants and the peasants kicked the piss out of the Jews.”
“and the righteous cowed and the evil grew bold.”
“Truth is what people want to believe and nothing more.”
“Truth is only what people want to believe and nothing more.”
“I fall short of thy glory every day by spending hours unprofitably, by thinking that the things I do are good, when they are not done to thy end, nor spring from the rules of thy Word.
[From the prayer, Shortcomings]”
“Instinct told me it was dangerous.
I could handle dangerous. Dangerous and me went back a long way. We did lunch when dangerous was in town.”
“Teadmised hingamise kontrollimisest aitasid mul vastu seista jaapanlaste piinamistele ja veelgi suurematele piinamistele kommunistide vangina. Ka kõige hullemad jaapanlased on kommunistidega võrreldes härrasmehed! Ma õppisin neid mõlemaid tundma nende kõige halvemast küljest.”
“Deborah felt his erection against her stomach and smiled up at him. She grabbed hold of his bum and moved him gently from side to side so that it rocked against her, twitching like Frankenstein's monster in an electric storm.”
“Come,” he whispered. They all were welcome.
They scattered for the racks, seizing their spiked swords, and their sharp axes, and the Bloody-Nine laughed to watch them. Armed or not, their death was a thing already decided. It was written into the cavern in lines of fire and lines of shadow. Now he would write it in lines of blood. “Die!” he roared, and the blade made circles, savage and beautiful, the letter on the metal burning red and leaving bright trails behind. And where the circles passed everything would be made right. The Shanka would scream and gibber, and the pieces of them would scatter, and they would be sliced and divided as neatly as meat on the butcher’s block
The Bloody-Nine showed his teeth, and smiled to be free, and to see the good work done so well. He knocked a barbed sword from a Flathead’s hand, seized it by the scruff of the neck and forced its face down into the channel where the molten steel flowed, furious yellow, and its head hissed and bubbled, shooting out stinking steam.
“Burn!” laughed the Bloody-Nine, and the ruined corpses, and their gaping wounds, and their fallen weapons, and the boiling bright iron laughed with him.
Only the Shanka did not laugh. They knew their hour was come.”
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