Pierce Brown Quotes

They are coming for me. Or am I coming for them? I do not know. I try to feel like the predator, but I cannot. My rage is calming. It is slowing and giving way to fear as the halls stretch on.

This is why the Obsidians chant. Not to sow terror. But to feel brave, to feel kinship, instead of isolation and fear.

But even as I yearn for it, I fear it. Because the more I see of this cruel world, the less I believe it ends in some pleasant fiction.

Give me your hand," she says. "Which is your best finger?"
"They are all better at different things."
"Don't be obstinate.

One cannot make a mouse a lion." "He can think like a lion.

Is that why there are no servants here?"
"There are servants, but I don't need them seeing you today. And they aren't hers. What kind of parent would want their children to have servants?" he asks, disgusted by the idea. "The moment a child thinks it is entitled to anything, they think they deserve everything. Why do you think the Core is such a Babylon? Because it's never been told no.

I thought being a man was having control. Being the master and commander of your own destiny. How could any boy know that freedom is lost the moment you become a man. Things start to count. To press in. Constricting slowly, inevitably, creating a cage of inconveniences and duties and deadlines and failed plans and lost friends.

After a while of watching me, he stands and punches me in the face. "If you punch me back, you will be sent home, Pixie." I kick him in the shin. He limps away, laughing like a drunk Uncle Narol. I'm not sent home.

Bye, Felicia." Victra spits, turning

You are a worm who thought himself a serpent just because you slither. But your power was not real, Pliny. It was all a dream. Time now to wake.

Friends are the pulse of life.

I still remember the flush of blood in her cheeks as she danced. She was all the raw colours of life, the crude beauty of nature. I am the human concept of beauty. Gold made soft and supple in man's form.

There is no peace for great men

Anything that believes only in itself cannot go happily into the night.

Imagine all those unborn. If it is not me, someone else will rise. Ten years from now. Fifty. A thousand. We will break the chains, no matter the cost. You cannot stop us. We are the tide.

Freedom costs too much. But

They believe civilization weakens natural selection. They do nature's work so that we do not become a soft race. The Passage, it seems, is a continuation of that policy. Only we were the tools they used. My ... victim ... was, bless his soul, a fool. He was from a family of no worth, and he had no wits, no intelligence, no ambition," he frowns at the words before sighing, "he had nothing the Board values. There is a reason he was to die."
Was there a reason Julian was to die?
Roque knows what he does because his mother is on the Board. He loathes his mother, and only then do I realize I should like him. Not only that, I take refuge in his words. He disagrees with the rules, but he follows them. It is possible. I can do the same until I have power enough to change them.

Was still a shit thing of me to say." He raps his knuckles on the ground. "I'm always saying shit things."
"I'm glad you said it."
"Why?"
"Because we've both forgotten we didn't get here on our own. You and I should be able to say anything to each other. That's how this works. It's how we work. We don't walk on eggshells. We talk to each other. Even if we say shit that's hard to hear.

It is the food that keeps my army content. As the great Corsican once said, "An army marches on its stomach." Then again, he didn't fare so well in the winter.

What do you say when a seven-and-a-half-foot-tall woman walks into a room with a battle axe and tongues on a hook? Absolutely nothing.

It's bad for business, and what's bad for business is bad for Man.

I panic as suicides do when they realize their folly.

An empire cannot be destroyed from without till it is destroyed from within. Remember that. We're empire-breakers, not terrorists. When

You tell anyone I cried, I'll find a dead fish, put it in a sock, hide it in your room, and let it putrefy.

Earth fought back and Earth lost.

No animal but man throws themselves willingly into the flames.

No one grasps the game, because no one knows the rules. No one follows the same set of rules. It is like life. Some think honor universal. Some think laws binding. Others know better. But in the end, don't those who rise by poison die by poison?" I shrug. "In the storybooks. In life there's no one left to poison them, often.

I have been rejected 120 times, probably because I didn't write the right book.

We never asked to bow. Who is he to say Red and Browns toiling to death is for the greater good? Who is he to say Pink children being harvested for rape, Obsidians and Grays for battle, is a necessity? How can he sit there and say that he alone knows what is best for me, for my family? It's not his right

Gods don't come down in life to mete out justice. The powerful do it.

I'm sorry ... ," I find myself saying. "I'm so sorry ... " She kisses my forehead and rocks her head against mine. She smells like rust and sweat and oil. Like home. She tells me I am her son. There is nothing to apologize for. I am safe. I am loved. The family is here.

We talk about anything but the things we should. Innocent and quiet, like two moths dancing around the same flame.

Maybe that's just the nature of us, ever wishing for things that were and could be rather than things that are and will be.

Tidings! It's Uncle Sevro and the Moderately Friendly Giant.

I cannot be afraid. I've spent too long being afraid. Too long being diminished by loss. Too long being everything except what I need to be. And whether I am the Reaper, or whether it's just another mask, it's one I must wear, not just for them, but for myself.

Suddenly I realize it wasn't debris I felt against my escape pod as I left the ship. It was people.

But I'm not fighting as the man he knew today, as a Gold. I'm a bloodydamn Helldiver with an army of giant, mildly psychotic women behind me and a fleet of state-of-the-art warships crewed by pissed-off pirates, engineers, techs, and former slaves. And he thinks he knows how to fight me? I laugh as the clawDrill shakes my seat.

As the world swirls around us and the ecstasy of war fills the air, Mustang and I look at one another with darkened eyes and wonder just what we have unleashed.

We chosen few are the fire of our people." I beat my chest. "We are not Red, not Blue or Gold or Gray or Obsidian. We are humanity. We are the tide. And

Go on. What about her? Come on, man. You killed my brothers. I killed Fitchner. It's already awkward.

Sevro lands dramatically before us, spraying us with sand. His ghostCloak ripples away. "Bloodydamn shithole." I

Rulers tend to dislike those who break rules.

In war, men lose what makes them great. Their creativity. Their wisdom. Their joy. All that's left is their utility. War

Jump. Jump, little grasshopper," he grumbles. "It'll be the last time you use your legs."
"What's that?" I ask.
"I said it'll be the last time you use your legs."
"Odd," I murmur.
He blinks at me and frowns. "What's ... odd?"
"You sound like a girl. Did something happen to your balls?"
"You little ...

If the need arises I've got myself a psychotic Goblin-sized fighter jet

I would have lived in peace. But my enemies brought me war.

Will you accept these stains, godchild?

Vengeance is an empty thing, Darrow.

I do admit, I am quite threatening. He's wearing a bathrobe and slippers.

He thinks this is all a game till Titus cuts off one of his ears. Then he cries for his mother like a young child. He will never command warships. The

Mother bid me to tell you: a pauper can never be a prince. Every time you look in the mirror, remember what we did to you. Remember you breathe because we let you. Remember your heart will one day be on our table. Rise so high, in mud you lie.

Break the chains.

I learn from him around the campfire that he and the Howlers, Thistle, Screwface, Clown, Weed, and Pebble - the dregs of my old House - stayed no longer than a day after I disappeared.

You're making me emotional, and I hate it.

Conceptually, I always took issue with bullies and those who took advantage of others, whether it was a teacher's cruelty to a student, or a student who picked fights with others.

Someone has to dot God's i's.

It's strange watching him leave. Like watching my shadow depart and realizing its destiny may be separate from mine.

And I wonder, in my last moments, if the planet does not mind that we wound her surface or pillage her bounty, because she knows we silly warm things are not even a breath in her cosmic life. We have grown and spread, and will rage and die. And when all that remains of us is our steel monuments and plastic idols, her winds will whisper, her sands will shift, and she will spin on and on, forgetting about the bold, hairless apes who thought they deserved immortality.

Wisdom is found in the heart not the head.

back even though I am about to die. "She said she loved you." I don't believe her, but I smile and kiss her forehead.

The lamb card simply looked too good not to eat," I say.
"Perfectly understandable.

You know a people have given up when they stop teaching their children.

Things are set in stone. Things are well ordered. Reds at the bottom, everyone else standing on our backs. Now you're looking at me and you're realizing that we don't bloodydamn like it down there. Red is rising, Mickey.

The floor is made of condensed air, so we are suspended above a mile vertical drop.

If violence is the Gold sport, manipulation is their art form.

I think girls have a harder time than guys do if you're switching schools. Guys don't get picked on as long as you're OK in sports.

Sons of Ares ARES Terrorist Leader, color unknown DANCER Ares' lieutenant, a Red HARMONY Dancer's lieutenant, a Red MICKEY Carver, a Violet EVEY former slave of Mickey, a Pink

Tradition is the crown of the tyrant.

There is a festival where we wear the faces of demons to ward evil spirits from our dead in the vale. Sometimes we
fail.

Dancer finds me the next day as I practice my Aureate accent in the penthouse's holomirror. I can see a three-dimensional depiction of my head in front of me. The teeth move strangely, catching my tongue as I try to roll my words. I am still becoming used to my body, even months after the last of the surgeries. My teeth are larger than I initially thought them. It also doesn't help that the Goldbrows speak as though they've had golden shovels stuck up their bloodydamn stinkholes. So I find it easier to speak like one if I see that I am one. The arrogance comes easier.

This is a trap I cannot ride away from. I guess there are those times in life. It's like staring at the ground as you fall from a height. Seeing the end coming doesn't mean you can dodge it, fix it, stop it.

Bellona? is all the Sovereign can say before he presses the button.

Absent love, fear will do nicely in a pinch.

Did I read the myths of the Greeks? Of strong men gaining glory for their own heads? No. I told them tales of Arthur, of the Nazarene, of Vishnu. Strong heroes who wished only to protect the weak.

I am so small. A billion tons of durosteel and nanometal move through the heavens, and I have never been beyond Mars's atmosphere. They are like specks of silver in an ocean of ink. And I am so much less. But those specs could ravage Mars. They could destroy a moon. Those specks rule the ink.

Life is meant to be felt. Else why live? Valleys make the mountains.

My army cries in protest. They don't understand. Golds don't do this. Golds don't sacrifice for one another. Leaders take; they do not give. My army cries out again. I ask them, how is this worse than the rape they were all so comfortable with? Is not Nyla now one of us? Is she not part of the body?

Like Reds are. Like Obsidians are. Like all the Colors are.

Pax tries to go light. But it's Pax, so when he's done, my back looks like chewed goatmeat. I stand up. Do everything I can to prevent myself from wobbling. I'm seeing stars. I want to wail. Want to cry. Instead, I tell them that anyone who does anything vile - they know what I mean - will have to whip me like this in front of the entire army. I see how they look at Tactus now, how they look at Pax, how they look at my back.

"You do not follow me because I am the strongest. Pax is. You do not follow me because I am the brightest. Mustang is. You follow me because you do not know where you are going. I do."

I motion Tactus to come toward me. He wavers, pale, confused as a newborn lamb. Fear marks his face. Fear of the unknown. Fear of the pain I willingly bore. Fear when he realizes how different he is from me.

"Don't be afraid," I tell him. I pull him forward into a hug. "We are blood brothers, you little shit. Blood brothers."

I'm learning.

Wise men read books about history. Strong men write them.

I wanted them to be terrible, hideous monsters. But they aren't. They are petty men who ruin lives and don't even notice.

There will dawn a day when these hostile hours, these days of hatred and violence, seem the faintest of memories, but dark and steep and long is the road up out of hell. So do not tire, do not despair, do not abandon your brethren, and do not forget that through this darkness we and we alone carry the light of freedom. We must defend it with every cell in our bodies. If not now, when? If not us, who?

My father for teaching me the grace of power unused, and mother for teaching me the joy of power used well.

You make one tribe out of twelve," I finally say. "By taking slaves."
Just like the Society. Build on the backs of others. It isn't cruel. It is practical.

You taught me once, Lorn. I'm a better man for it. But now it's my turn to teach you. Men can change. Sometimes they have to fall. Sometimes they have to leap.

We are not our station in life. We are us - the sum of what we've done, what we want to do, and the people who we keep close.

Sevro snorts. "What do you think I've been doing this whole time, you silky turd? Wanking off in the bushes?"
Cassius and I look at each other.
"Kind of," I say.
"Yeah, actually," Cassius agrees.

That to wipe my ass, you golden pricklick?

You! Troll!" Sevro shouts. "I'm a terrorist warlord! Stop throwing me. You made me drop by candy!

Sacrifice. And I will grow my legend and spread it amongst

Nothing has ever been enough for you, nor will it be. You're trying to matter to yourself. Because you're broken inside. Because you hate what you are.

But no matter my value, I am marred. Someone had me, then threw me away. Who would want such a used thing?

But business in a crony-capitalist society is the craft of sharks.

All ears yearn for a voice to lead them through darkness.

But I cannot think only of the Red girl. When I see the moon, I think of the sun: Mustang burns in my thoughts. If Eo smelled of rust and soil, then the Golden girl is fire and autumn leaves.

He has to play my game!" Sevro says. "Shithead isn't getting out till he plays nice. I'll give him a riddle instead. What do I have in my pocket?

I will die. You will die. We will all die and the universe will carry on without care. All that we have is that shout into the wind - how we live. How we go. And how we stand before we fall.

We're empire-breakers, not terrorists.

Sometimes I wonder if he were raised a Red and I a Gold if he wouldn't have ended up a better man than I am now, and I a worse man than he ever could be.
For some reason I think I could have been capable of great evil.

entitlement and chaos are a poor mix.

I am not alone. I am not his victim. So let him do his worst. I am the Reaper. I know how to suffer. I know the darkness.

I've never been a man of joy or a man of war, or an island in a storm. Never an absolute like Lorn. That was what I pretended to be. I am and always have been a man who is made complete by those around him. I