S.A. Chakraborty Quotes

No, I wasn't afraid. I was tired." Ali's voice broke on the word. "I'm tired of everyone in this city feeding on vengeance. I'm tired of teaching our children to hate and fear other children because their parents are our enemies. And I'm sick and tired of acting like the only way to save our people is to cut down all who might oppose us, as if our enemies won't return the favor the instant power shifts.

The bow in hand, he finally staggered up and glanced down the alley, obviously searching for whoever had – what had he said? – 'called' him? Though he didn't look much taller than her, the vast array of weapons – enough to fight a whole troop of French soldiers – was terrifying and slightly ridiculous. Like what a little boy might don to pretend to be some ancient warrior.

A warrior. Oh, by the Most High…

He was looking for her. Nahri was the one who had called him.

I've had enough of men hurting me because they were upset.

Are you ready?" Nahri asked when she and Munthadir were alone.
He laughed as he strapped a wicked-looking sword to his waist. "Not in the slightest. You ?"
"God, no." Nahri grabbed another needle-sharp dagger and flipped it into her sleeve. "Let's go die.

Can I swim?" he snapped, as if the very idea offended him. "Can you burn?

You're young," he said quietly. "You have no experience with what happens to people like us during a war. People who are different.

Someone steals from me, I steal from others, and I'm sure the people I stole from will eventually take something that doesn't belong to them. It's a circle. - Nahri

So you're telling me I should hide my kebabs? - Nahri

The mightiest of things have the humblest beginnings

Because a lost little girl from Cairo thought she was living in some sort of fairy tale. And because for all her supposed cleverness, she couldn't see that the dashing hero who saved her was its monster.

When the Franks and Turks weren't fighting over Egypt, the only thing they seemed to agree on was that the Egyptians couldn't govern it themselves. God forbid. It's not as though the Egyptians were the inheritors of a great civilization whose mighty monuments still littered the land. Oh, no. They were peasants, superstitious fools who ate too many beans

So you just live quietly with these powers?" he demanded. "Haven't you ever wondered why you have them? Suleiman's eye... you could be overthrowing governments, and instead you steal from peasants!

The king lifted his dark brows. "This should be an interesting story.

And how many Daeva children died when your people invaded? Far more than the Geziri children who will be lost tonight."
Muntadhir stared at him in shock. "Do you hear yourself? What sort of man plots that calculus?" Hate filled his gray eyes. "God, I hope it's her in the end. I hope Nahri puts a goddamned knife through whatever passes for your heart.

Can we delay bloodshed for at least a few days? I didn't cross a cursed lake in a giant wooden bowl so I could be beheaded for treason before I had a chance to sample some royal cuisine."
"That's not the punishment for treason," Ali murmured.
"What's the punishment for treason then?"
"Being trampled to death by a karkadann."
Lubayd paled and this time, Ali knew it wasn't due to seasickness. "Oh," he choked out. "Don't you come from an inventive family?

Not wanting to be destroyed by despair doesn't make you a coward. It makes you a survivor.

I can count my short reign a success if I manage to convince the two most stubborn people in Daevabad to do something they don't want to do.

Go steal some happiness for yourself, my friend," she said shortly. "Trust me when I say the chance doesn't always come back.

Ah, Darayavahoush, there are always people to save. And always cunning men and women around who find a way to take advantage of that duty and harness it into power.

I find I can get a more accurate measure of a man when he's not aware he's being appraised.

I'm coming back, Nahri," he promised. "You're my Banu Nahida. This is my city." His expression was defiant. "Nothing will keep me from either of you.

It's not haunted". Wajed countered. "It simply... misses its founding family."

"The stairs vanished under me the last time I was there, uncle," Ali pointed out. "The water in the fountains turns to blood so often than people don't drink it."

"So it misses them a lot.

Praise be to God, have I actually silenced you for once? I should have accused you of treason earlier in our conversation and saved myself your insufferable comments.

You're some kind of thief, then?"
"That a very narrow-minded way of looking at it. I prefer to think of myself as a merchant of delicate tasks.

Nahri rose to her feet. "We need to retrieve Suleiman's seal," she declared. "It's our only hope of defeating them." She glanced down at Ali, reaching out her hand. "Are you with me?"
Ali took a deep breath but then clasped her hand and climbed to his feet. "Until the end.

You bet on whether or not I kissed your wife?" Ali was aghast. "What is wrong with the two of you?" When his brother and sister only cackled harder, he drew up. "I hate you. "I hate you both.

Nahri looked out at the dark garden, her thoughtd roiling. The king was dead, the grand wazir was a traitor, the Qaid was gone, and Ali – the only one of them with military experience – was involved in a mutiny across the city.

Because I am shafit. That I can wield my magic better than a pureblood, that the sheikh here could spin intellectual circles around the scholars of the Royal Library - that is proof that we're not so different from the rest o f you." He glared at Ali. "It's not a thin I mean to hide.

He bowed. "You hear correctly." His gaze didn't leave her, the examination making her skin crawl. He shook his head. "Astonishing. I never imagined I'd meet a real Nahid."

Nahri gritted her teeth. "Occasionally we're allowed out to terrify the populace.

With a curse, Zaynab followed. "If I've not said it lately, I think I hate you."

"You know, for a magical being, you have a terrible sense of adventure," Nahri replied, touching one of the eddies of paint, a blue swell that looked like a wave.

In terms of identity? I'm a commercial fantasy writer, looking to entertain my audience with fantastical tales that mix history with myth and magic. That's something humans have been doing for a very long time, and I like being part of a long tradition of storytelling, whether that's ancient tales shared around a campfire or modern podcasts.
...
I'm currently editing a scene that involves winged lions and smoke-conjured armor, so I'm not certain I'm the best writer to ask about truth. But that being said, words and stories have great power and I think setting a scene that pulls from the real world but is set in a fictional one can cause readers to reassess and question things in a way they might not have otherwise.

He snatched up the reins again, holding her tight. There was nothing affectionate or remotely romantic about the gesture; it was desperation, like a man clinging to a ledge. "We run.

A new, rather grisly lesson in Daevabad's history." Nahri made a face. "Just once, I'd like to learn of an event that was nothing but our ancestors conjuring rainbows and dancing in the street together.

Ali's expression instantly grew stormy. "I didn't say he was going to burn in hell," he defended. "I suggested he repent before that happened.