“Any sign of them yet? he asked. Will looked at him. 'Yes', he said. 'A party of fifty Scotti came though just twenty minutes ago'.
Really? Horace looked startled. He wasn't fully awake yet. Will rolled his eyes to heaven. 'Oh, my word, yes', he said. 'They were riding on oxen and playing bagpipes and drums. Of course not,' he went on. 'If they had come past, I would have woken you-if only to stop your snoring'.
I don't snore', Horace said, with dignity. Will raised his eyebrows. 'Is that so?' he said. 'Then in that case, you'd better chase out that colony of walruses who are in the tent with you...of course you snore.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Will looked up angrily, shaking his head in disbelief.
Will you shut up? he said tautly.
Horace shrugged in apology. 'I'm sorry' he said, I sneezed. A person can't help it when they sneeze.
Perhaps not. But you could try to make it sound a little less like an elephant trumpeting in agony; Will told him. ”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Sometimes people can be too intellegent for their own good. Too much thinking could confuse things.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Sometimes, life threw up problems that even the wisest, most trusted mentor couldn't solve for you. It was part of the pain of growing up.
And having to stand by and watch was part of being a mentor.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“If you're a ghost," he said, "we mean you no disrespect. And if you're not a ghost, tell me who you are-or you soon will be one”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Already, Cullum felt a stirring of interest. The name Horace and the mention of an oakleaf symbol struck a chord in his memory. Sir Horace, the Oakleaf Knight, was a legendary figure in Araluen, even in a place as remote as Norgate. Of course, the more remote the location, the more garbled and fantastic the legends became. As Cullum had hear tell, Sir Horace had been a youth of sixteen when he defeated the tyrant Morgarath in single combat, slicing the head off the evil lord's shoulders with one might strocke of a massive broadsword.
Then, in the company of the equally legendary Ranger Halt, Sir Horace had traveled across the Stormwhite Sea to defeat the Riders from the East and rescue Princess Cassandra and her companion, the apprentice Ranger known as Will.
Will! The significance of the name suddenly registered with the innkeeper. The jongleur's name was Will. Now here he was, in a cowled cloak, festooned with recurve bow and a quiver of arrows. He looked more closely and saw the hilt of a heavy saxe knife just visible at his waist. No doubt about it, Cullum thought, these cheerful young men were two of Araluen's greatest heroes!”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Success tended to make the unorthodox acceptable”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Halt," said Will eventually, "can I ask you a question?"
"I think you just did," Halt replied, with the faintest hint of a smile in his voice. It was
an old formula between the two of them. Will grinned, then sighed and became serious.
"Does life always get harder when you get older?"
Page | 142
"You're not exactly ancient," Halt said gently. "But things have a way of turning out,
you know. Just give them time."
Will made a frustrated little gesture with his hands. "I know... it's just, I mean... oh, I
don't know what I mean!" he finished.
Halt eyed him carefully. "Pauline said to thank you for rescuing her assistant," he said.
This time, he was sure he saw a reaction. So that was it.
"I was glad to do it," Will replied eventually, his voice neutral. "I think I'll turn in. Good
night, Halt."
"Good night, son," Halt said. He chose the last word intentionally. He watched as the
dim figure strode away toward the fire, seeing the shoulders straighten as he went.
Sometimes, life threw up problems that even the wisest, most trusted mentor couldn't
solve for you. It was part of the pain of growing up.
And having to stand by and watch was part of the pain of being a mentor.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Horace felt an overwhelming need to sneeze. He tried to smother the
sound, but only succeeded in making it louder.
Will looked up angrily, shaking his head in disbelief. "Will you shut up?" he said tautly.
Horace shrugged in apology. "I'm sorry," he said. "I sneezed. A person can't help it
when they sneeze."
"Perhaps not. But you could try to make it sound a little less like an elephant
trumpeting in agony," Will told him.
Horace wasn't prepared to take that lying down. Crouching down, perhaps. But lying
down, never.
"And of course, you'd know what an elephant sounds like! Have you ever heard an
elephant?" he challenged.
But Will was unabashed by his logic."No," he said."But I'm sure it couldn't be any louder
than that sneeze.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Will: I'm looking for fighting men. I plan to sack a castle, and I hear you people are rather good at that.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“I don’t snore,” Horace said, with dignity. Will raised his eyebrows.“Is that so?” he said. “Then in that case, you’d better chase out that colony of walruses who are in the tent with you.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Think of a positive outcome, and
you will achieve it. Allow doubt to enter your mind, and the doubt will become self-fulfilling.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Of course you love her!" he'd replied. "She's been your best friend since you both could walk, and now she's grown up to be beautiful, talented, intelligent and witty. What's not to love about all that?”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Gundar's smile broadened at the memory of that evening as he recalled how his rough-and-tumble sailors had stayed on their best manners, humbly asking their table companions to pass the meat, please, or requesting just a little more ale in their drinking mugs. These were men who were accustomed to cursing heartily, tearing legs off roast boar wih their bare hands and occasionally swilling ale traight from the keg. Their attempts at mingling with polite society would have made the basis of some great stories back in Skandia.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“This one is bigger than the other by at least a quarter,” he said. “That’s perspective,” Will replied stubbornly. “The left one is closer, so it looks bigger.” “If it’s perspective, and it’s that much bigger, your handcart would have to be about five meters wide,” Horace told him. “Is that what you’re planning?” Again, Will studied the drawing critically. “No. I thought maybe two meters. And three meters long.” He quickly sketched in a smaller version of the left wheel, scrubbing over the first attempt as he did so. “Is that better?” “Could be rounder,” Horace said. “You’d never get a wheel that shape to roll. It’s sort of pointy at one end.” Will’s temper flared as he decided his friend was simply being obtuse for the sake of it. He slammed the charcoal down on the table. “Well, you try drawing a perfect circle freehand!” he said angrily. “See how well you do! This is a concept drawing, that’s all. It doesn’t have to be perfect!” Malcolm chose that moment to enter the room. He had been outside, checking on MacHaddish, making sure the general was still securely fastened to the massive log that held him prisoner. He glanced now at the sketch as he passed by the table. “What’s that?” he asked. “It’s a walking cart,” Horace told him. “You get under it, so the spears won’t hit you, and go for a walk.” Will glared at Horace and decided to ignore him. He turned his attention to Malcolm. “Do you think some of your people could build me something like this?” he asked. The healer frowned thoughtfully. “Might be tricky,” he said. “We’ve got a few cart wheels, but they’re all the same size. Did you want this one so much bigger than the other?” Now Will switched his glare to Malcolm. Horace put a hand up to his face to cover the grin that was breaking out there. “It’s perspective. Good artists draw using perspective,” Will said, enunciating very clearly. “Oh. Is it? Well, if you say so.” Malcolm studied the sketch for a few more seconds. “And did you want them this squashed-up shape? Our wheels tend to be sort of round. I don’t think these ones would roll too easily, if at all.” Truth be told, Malcolm had been listening outside the house for several minutes and knew what the two friends had been discussing. Horace gave vent to a huge, indelicate snort that set his nose running. His shoulders were shaking, and Malcolm couldn’t maintain his own straight face any longer. He joined in, and the two of them laughed uncontrollably. Will eyed them coldly. “Oh, yes. Extremely amusing,” he said.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Gundar's smile broadened at the memory of that evening as he recalled how his rough-and-tumble sailors had stayed on their best manners, humbly asking their table companions to pass the meat, please, or requesting just a little more ale in their drinking mugs. These were men who were accustomed to cursing heartily, tearing legs off roast boar wih their bare hands and occasionally swilling ale straight from the keg. Their attempts at mingling with polite society would have made the basis of some great stories back in Skandia.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Horace felt an overwhelming need to sneeze. He tried to smother the
sound, but only succeeded in making it louder.
Will looked up angrily, shaking his head in disbelief. "Will you shut up?" he said tautly.
Horace shrugged in apology. "I'm sorry," he said. "I sneezed. A person can't help it
when they sneeze."
"Perhaps not. But you could try to make it sound a little less like an elephant
trumpeting in agony," Will told him.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“It’s a walking cart,” Horace told him. “You get under it, so the spears won’t hit you, and go for a walk.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Will to Gundar: I'm looking for fighting men. I plan to sack a castle, and I hear you people are rather good at that.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Surrounded by followers, he was alone.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“The dog, he thought, was wiser and more kindly natured than he was.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Allow doubt to enter your mind, and the doubt will become self-fulfilling.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Horace, hands on hips, paced around the circle, frowning as he studied them. They were a scruffy bunch, he thought, and none too clean. Their hair and beards were overlong and often gathered in rough and greasy plaits, like Nils’s. There were scars and broken noses and cauliflower ears in abundance, as well as the widest assortment of rough tattoos, most of which looked as if they had been carved into the skin with the point of a dagger, after which dye was rubbed into the cut. There were grinning skulls, snakes, wolf heads and strange northern runes. All of the men were burly and thickset. Most had bellies on them that suggested they might be overfond of ale. All in all they were as untidy, rank smelling and rough tongued a bunch of pirates as one could be unlucky enough to run into. Horace turned to Will and his frown faded. ‘They’re beautiful,’ he said.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“In addition, there was a note from Gundar – the skirl had paid a professional scribe to write it for him. The new ship was nearly ready, he said. They had decided to call it Wolfwill.”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“Will wondered how Horace could be so calm. He was unaware that Horace was asking himself the same question about Will, feeling the same knotting of stomach muscles. The”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“The following day, he would find a bruise and wonder how it got there. When”
― John Flanagan, quote from The Siege of Macindaw
“But you see, "libertarian" has a special meaning in the United States. The United States
is off the spectrum of the main tradition in this respect: what's called "libertarianism" here is unbridled capitalism. Now, that's always been opposed in the European libertarian tradition, where every anarchist has been a socialist-because the point is, if you have unbridled capitalism, you have all kinds of authority: you have extreme authority. If capital is privately controlled, then people are going to have to rent themselves in order to survive. Now, you can say, "they rent themselves freely, it's a free contract"-but that's a joke. If your choice is, "do what I tell you or starve," that's not a choice-it's in fact what was commonly referred to as wage slavery in more civilized times, like the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, for example.
The American version of "libertarianism" is an aberration, though-nobody really takes it seriously. I mean, everybody knows that a society that worked by American libertarian principles would self-destruct in three seconds. The only reason people pretend to take it seriously is because you can use it as a weapon. Like, when somebody comes out in favor of a tax, you can say: "No, I'm a libertarian, I'm against that tax"-but of course, I'm still in favor of the government building roads, and having schools, and killing Libyans, and all that sort of stuff.
Now, there are consistent libertarians, people like Murray Rothbard [American academic]-and if you just read the world that they describe, it's a world so full of hate that no human being would want to live in it. This is a world where you don't have roads because you don't see any reason why you should cooperate in building a road that you're not going to use: if you want a road, you get together with a bunch of other people who are going to use that road and you build it, then you charge people to ride on it. If you don't like the pollution from somebody's automobile, you take them to court and you litigate it. Who would want to live in a world like that? It's a world built on hatred.
The whole thing's not even worth talking about, though. First of all, it couldn't function for a second-and if it could, all you'd want to do is get ~ out, or commit suicide or something. But this is a special American aberration, it's not really serious.”
― Noam Chomsky, quote from Understanding Power: The Indispensable Chomsky
“Paul?” “Yeah?” “Don’t take this the wrong way.” I tried not to flinch. Here it comes. Vince sighed. “I think I’m going to fall in love with you.”
― T.J. Klune, quote from Tell Me It's Real
“Finn stood by the counter, having just finished making his thirteenth cup of coffee of the day. As always, the chicory fumes warmed me from the inside out and made me think of his father. I wished that the old man were here tonight. Fletcher would have known exactly what to do about the mess we were in—the mess I’d dragged us all into by declaring war on Mab in the first place. Finn stared at me with his green eyes. “Any chance of getting something sweet to go with my coffee?” he asked in a hopeful voice. I arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean all those pieces of strawberry pie that you ate for lunch weren’t enough?” “I’m a growing boy,” Finn said in a sincere tone. “I need my vitamins.” Bria snorted. “The only thing that’s growing on you, Lane, is your ego.” Finn sidled up to my sister and gave her a dazzling smile. “Well, other things of mine also tend to swell up in your presence, detective.” I rolled my eyes at Finn’s attempt at witty banter. Jo-Jo just chuckled, amused by his antics. Bria returned Finn’s smile with a syrupy sweet one of her own. “Oh, really? So it’s gone from what, pencil eraser to cocktail sausage by now?” Finn sputtered and almost spit out a mouthful of coffee. His face flushed, and he glared at Bria.”
― Jennifer Estep, quote from Spider’s Revenge
“the greatest thing by far is to have a command of metaphor. This alone cannot be imparted by another; it is the mark of genius, for to make good metaphors implies an eye for resemblances.”
― Aristotle, quote from Poetics
“True satisfaction is only for what has its plentitude in its own being; where craving is due to an inborn deficiency, there may be satisfaction at some given moment but it does not last.”
― Plotinus, quote from The Enneads
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