The Emperor's Blades

Resist faith. Resist trust. Believe only in what you touch with your hands. The rest is error and air.

Assume nothing,’” he said. The first chapter of the Tactics. “If we figure everyone might be a murderer, we’re less likely to be disappointed.

Men tend to die when you slide steel beneath their skin and wiggle it around. Even priests.

You squint hard enough, and everything starts to look suspicious.

Any fool can see what's there. You need to see what is not there.

There’s no blade as keen as surprise.

we use the time we have. There is no other.

Believe what you see with your eyes; trust what you hear with your ears; know what you feel with your flesh. The rest is dream and delusion.

The man still fighting last week’s battle will always lose to the man already fighting tomorrow’s,

The mind was a clay pot set out in the rain. A monk could empty it daily and still the old hopes and worries, the body’s meager strengths and perennial pains pattered against the bottom, trickled down the sides, filling it once more.

Easier to recall a loosed falcon than a spoken word.

When you know nothing about a creature," the monk ground out, his voice as hard as a rock slide, "expect it has come to kill you.

The fighters who frighten you are not the fighters to fear. The man you barely notice will be the one to bury a blade in your back.

If you hope to play a part in this empire, Sanlitun had told her time and time again, you must learn to divorce your feelings from your face. The world sees what you allow it to see, judges you according to what you reveal.

Henderson Jakes, the founder of the Eyrie, had envisioned a cadre of elite soldiers dedicated to celibacy, the empire, and the art of war. He had to settle for two out of three. Young men and women willing to leap off massive birds into burning buildings at a mere nod from a commanding officer grew violently rebellious when required to abstain from sex.

The present is the present. Tomorrow will still be ‘now.

Leadership isn't just about giving orders. A fool can give orders. A leader listens. He changes his mind. He acknowledges mistakes.

Obedience is a knife that cuts the cord of bondage. Silence is a hammer that shatters the walls of speech. Stillness is strength; pain a soft bed. Put down your basin; emptiness is the only vessel.

Triste lay in a heap, her dress hitched up around her thighs, whimpering and shuddering until Gwenna shifted to kick her ungently in the head.

The process is the goal,” Kaden responded innocently, trying not to feel smug. It was about time one of those Shin maxims worked in his favor.

What I observe is that the world is ruled by men—good men and bad, desperate men and those with principles.

I’d leave you here longer, but it’s no longer safe.

I’m doubly sorry for your loss,” the old monk began after a time. “First, because every son should have a chance to know his father, not as a child knows his protector, but as a man knows another man.

every son should have a chance to know his father, not as a child knows his protector, but as a man knows another man.

The ablest swordsman, Hendran wrote, the consummate tactician, the peerless general: All seem invulnerable until luck turns against them. Make no mistake—place a man in death’s way enough times, and his luck will turn.

dozens of groups of seven to sit on the dozens of trials that would take place, each group composed, as decreed by Terial himself, of the Seven: a mother, a merchant, a pauper, a prelate, a soldier, a son, and a dying man.

Believe what you see with your eyes, trust what you hear with your ears; know what you feel with your flesh. The rest is dream and delusion.

Our lives were short, no more than a blink to the foes we fought, but we were fertile. Fathers fought our battles, but it was our mothers who won the war.