The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms

In a child's eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way. I am convinced that this is the greatest power in the universe.

We can never be gods, after all--but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.

But love like that doesn't just disappear, does it? No matter how powerful the hate, there is always a little love left, underneath. Yes. Horrible, isn't it?

There's truth even in tainted knowledge, if one reads carefully.

It is blasphemy to separate oneself from the earth and look down on it like a god. It is more than blasphemy; it is dangerous. We can never be gods, after all - but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.

The priest's lesson: beware the Nightlord, for his pleasure is a mortal's doom. My grandmother's lesson: beware love, especially with the wrong man.

You are what your creators and experiences have made you, like every other being in this universe. Accept that and be done; I tire of your whining.

...and when I lift my head to scream out my fury, a million stars turn black and die. No one can see them, but they are my tears.

Once upon a time there was a Once upon a time there was a Once upon a time there was a Stop this. It's undignified.

You are Insignificant. One of millions, neither special nor unique. I did not ask for this ignominy, and I resent the comparison. Fine. I don't you like you, either.

I am not as I once was. They have done this to me, broken me open and torn out my heart. I do not know who I am anymore. I must try to remember.

I remembered Nahadoth's lips on my throat and fought to suppress a shudder, only half succeeding. Death as a consequence of lying with a god wasn't something I had considered, but it did not surprise me. A mortal man's strength had its limits. He spent himself and slept. He could be a good lover, but even his best skills were only guesswork - for every caress that sent a woman's head into the clouds, he might try ten that brought her back to earth.

So there was love, once. More than love. And now there is more than hate. Mortals have no words for what we gods feel. Gods have no words for such things. But love like that doesn't just disappear, does it? No matter how powerful the hate, there is always love left, underneath. Horrible, isn't it?

The Nightlord cannot be controlled, child. He can only be unleashed. And you asked him not to kill.

The younger man stepped away from the table and came toward me, his whole posture radiating menace. Every Darre woman is taught to deal with such behavior from men. It is an animal trick that they use, like dogs ruffling their fur and growling. Only rarely is there an actual threat behind it, and a woman's strength lies in discerning when the threat is real and when it is just hair and noise.

And in that sliver of time, I felt the power around me coalesce, malice-hard and sharp as crystal. That this analogy occurred to me should have been a warning.

It was very bad if the council had resorted to recruiting men. By tradition men were our last line of defence, their physical strength bent towards the single and most important task of protecting our homes and children. This meant the council had decided that our only defence was to defeat the enemy, period. Anything else meant the end of Darre.

Separarse de la tierra y contemplarla desde arriba como los dioses es una blasfemia. No podemos ser dioses... pero podemos llegar a ser menos que humanos con aterradora facilidad.

Whether you live or die is irrelevant. You are Arameri, and like all of us, you will serve.

De esta materia prima están hechos los grandes cuentos, ¿no? Puro romanticismo. En los cuentos, las parejas así viven felices para siempre. Pero los cuentos no dicen lo que sucede cuando se hace eso y se ofende a la familia más poderosa del mundo.

It is blasphemy to separate oneself from the earth and look down on it like a god. It is more than blasphemy; it is dangerous. We can never be gods, after all—but we can become something less than human with frightening ease.

It is important to give just the right instructions. He thinks in loopholes.

In a child’s eyes, a mother is a goddess. She can be glorious or terrible, benevolent or filled with wrath, but she commands love either way.

Men who served anyone could be trusted by no one.

The Darren language has a word for the attraction one feels to danger: esui. It is esui that makes warriors charge into hopeless battles and die laughing. Esui is also what draws women to lovers who are bad for them--men who would make poor fathers, women of the enemy.