Sangu Mandanna Quotes

If Sean's voice is layers of wood, and Mina Ma's is the voice a copper pot, then Mathew Mercer's is the voice of a wild animal. I suddenly think of a movie Ammara and I loved when we were little, and I think of Scar, the lion who murdered his brother to become king. That kind of voice.

What is this power the dead have over the ones they leave behind? It's strange and beautiful and frightening, this deathless love that human being continue to feel for the ones they've lost.

You exist by the Weavers' grace. Only as long as you are what they expect of you. Do not understand how fragile that is? But if you replace your other, you might be safe. You might make your familiars happy, and then they will always keep you. So if only for my sake, child, hope that happens."
"I don't wish for her to die!"
"Then I will wish it," she replies ruthlessly.

I want to be human so badly it hurts.

We'd be like Cathy and Heathcliff. Harry and Hermione. Liam and Noel."
...
"Well, I'm not sure they're the best example anyway," Sean points out, handing me a coffee. "Nor are the others. None of them exactly ended up together."
"That doesn't matter. What matters is what they did together, what they could achieve side by side. We'd be unstoppable if we were together.

Just last year, I had to read the old Indian epic, the Mahabharata. Inspired by it, I wished I had been named Draupadi. After all, she, too, had been born differently, even abnormally. She had stepped out of fire, a gift from the old gods to her father the king. There had been no Hindu gods involved in my birth, but the loose parallels gave me a delightful sense of grandeur.

You have to be a two people; a saint and a sinner

Do you know what happens when a pawn gets all the way across the board?
She becomes a queen.

Amarra used to read books about battles. Great heroic battles. Swords and shields and knights and honor. Battles like that don't happen anymore, yet I feel like I am caught in one. Once I may have hoped to fight for my life with all those things: swords and shields and knights and honor. But I don't have a sword. My shield is broken. I don't know what is and isn't honorable anymore. And now I've sent my knight away.

I'd rather spend the rest of my life without ever seeing you again," he says, "than watch them destroy you because of me.

But maybe that's what the dead do. They stay. They linger. Benign and sweet and painful. They don't need us. They echo all by themselves.

That's how I feel every single day," he say brokenly. "Every day, Eva. Your life is dangling by a thread. And I'm scrabbling to hold on, but it keeps slipping through my fingers.I'm here because I can't stand not to be. It's not some big noble sacrifice. I want to be here. I don't like the world without you. I need you to be alive.

He can see what move I'm planning to make in chess and counters before I can do it. He always knows who the killer is in a detective story. I think he could make a career out of detecting, but he wants to write plays for theater. Maybe he could be a Shakespeare instead of a Sherlock. He could be anything. Anything he wants to be.