Blood Ties Quotes

A war changes people in a number of ways. It either shortcuts you to your very self; or it triggers such variations that you might as well have been a larva, pupating in dampness, darkness and tightly wrapped puttees. Then, providing you don't take flight from a burst shell, you emerge from your khaki cocoon so changed from what you were that you fear you've gone mad, because people at home treat you as though you were someone else. Someone who, through a bizarre coincidence, had the same name, address and blood ties as you, but who must have died in the war. And you have no choice but to live as an impostor because you can't remember who you were before the war. There's a simple but horrible explanation for this: you were born in the war. You slid, slick, bloody and fully formed, out of a trench.
The Great War was the greatest changer of them all. ~ Ann-Marie MacDonald

The average clan - and there were more than fifty of them in 1745 - was no more a family than is a Mafia "family." The only important blood ties were those between the chieftain and his various caporegimes, the so-called tacksmen who collected his rents and bore the same name. Below them were a large, nondescript, and constantly changing population of tenants and peasants, who worked the land and owed the chieftain service in war and peacetime. Whether they considered themselves Campbells or MacPhersons or Mackinnons was a matter of indifference, and no clan genealogist or bard, the seanachaidh, ever wasted breath keeping track of them. What mattered was that they were on clan land, and called it home. ~ Arthur Herman

Destiny. To believe that a life is meant for a single purpose, one must also believe in a common fate. Father to daughter, brother to sister, mother to child. Blood ties can be as unyielding as they are eternal. But it is our bonds of choice that truly light the road we travel. Love versus hatred. Loyalty against betrayal. A person's true destiny can only be revealed at the end of his journey, and the story I have to tell is far from over. ~ Emily Thorne

So now that you know my truth, let's talk about yours. ~ J.D. Cunegan

So often they made her think of the phrase "Blood is thicker than water," because at times blood was the only bond they shared and she had to remind herself they were family, because at times it was unbelievable they were even related. She loved them, but she hadn't chosen them. ~ Victoria Kahler

The heart swellings convince me of the folly of those who dare to think that any new ties can weaken the first and best of nature. ~ Stephanie Dray

Ties of blood are not always ties of friendship; but friendship founded on merit, on esteem, and on mutual trust, becomes more vital and more tender when strengthened by the ties of blood. ~ Lord Chesterfield

You know what I hate about rock? I hate tie-dyed tee shirts. I wouldn't wear a tie-dyed tee shirt unless it was dyed with the urine of Phil Collins and the blood of Jerry Garcia. ~ Kurt Cobain

The faith itself was simple; he believed in the dignity of man. His ancestors were Huguenots, refugees of a chained and bloody Europe. He had learned their stories in the cradle. He had grown up believing in America and the individual and it was a stronger faith than his faith in God. This was the land where no man had to bow. In this place at last a man could stand up free of the past, free of tradition and blood ties and the curse of royalty and become what he wished to become. This was the first place on earth where the man mattered more than the state. True freedom had begun here and it would spread eventually over all the earth. But it had begun HERE. The fact of slavery upon this incredibly beautiful new clean earth was appalling, but more even than that was the horror of old Europe, the curse of nobility, which the South was transplanting to new soil. They were forming a new aristocracy, a new breed of glittering men, and Chamberlain had come to crush it. But he was fighting for the dignity of man and i that way he was fighting for himself. If men were equal in America, all the former Poles and English and Czechs and blacks, then they were equal everywhere, and there was really no such thing as foreigner; there were only free men and slaves. And so it was not even patriotism but a new faith. The Frenchman may fight for France, but the American fights for mankind, for freedom; for the people, not the land. ~ Michael Shaara

The Igbo people of Southern Nigeria are more than ten million strong and must be accounted one of the major peoples of Africa. Conventional practice would call them a tribe, but I no longer follow that convention. I call them a nation.

"Here we go again!," you might be thinking.
Well, let me explain. My Pocket Oxford Dictionary defines tribe as follows: "group of (esp. primitive) families or communities linked by social, religious or blood ties and usually having a common culture and dialect and a recognized leader." If we apply the different criteria of this definition to Igbo people we will come up with the following results:

a. Igbo people are not primitive; if we were I would not be offering this distinguished lecture, or would I?;
b. Igbo people are not linked by blood ties; although they may share many cultural traits;
c. Igbo people do not speak one dialect; they speak one language which has scores of major and minor dialects;
d. and as for having one recognized leader, Igbo people would regard the absence of such a recognized leader as the very defining principle of their social and political identity. ~ Chinua Achebe

No, nothing in this world is as oppressive and debilitating as blood ties. Any other relationship – be it friend, lover, wife; be it obligatory or constraining or difficult – is something one has consciously entered into at some point. Only one's ties with parents and siblings are formed at birth and are unbreakable. ~ Kafū Nagai

True kinship has naught to do with blood ties, however strong they be. I think we are all kin, brothers and sisters one to the other, all children of all parents. ~ Lloyd Alexander

wanted to make him know that he had friends in this world tied to him by something stronger than blood, ties that could never fade or dissolve. That he would never be hungry or cold or motherless while I still drew breath. That he didn't need two hands, or a street address, or clean lungs, or social grace, or a happy disposition to be precious and irreplaceable. That no matter what our future held, my first task would always be to kick a hole in the world and make a space for him where he could safely be his eccentric self. Most ~ Hope Jahren

I was always interested in science, truth, goodness and fairness. I have always been strongly individualistic and merit-oriented. This is probably because I was adopted and thus have always tended to cavalierly dismiss the importance of "blood ties" and any inherited or "unearned" group characteristics. ~ Stephan Kinsella

The ones we choose to love become our anchorwhen the hawser of the blood-tie's hacked, or frays. ~ Tony Harrison

There is a compulsion that is perhaps the heart of life's meanings, this marvelous mystery of blood ties that brings joy whenever a new family member comes on the scene. ~ Walter Cronkite

In Sri Lanka, when two strangers meet, they ask a series of questions that reveal family, ancestral village, and blood ties until they arrive at a common friend or relative. Then they say, "Those are our people, so you are our people." It's a small place. Everyone knows everyone.

"But in America, there are no such namings; it is possible to slip and slide here. It is possible to get lost in the nameless multitudes. There are no ropes binding one, holding one to the earth. Unbound by place or name, one is aware that it is possible to drift out into the atmosphere and beyond that, into the solitary darkness where there is no oxygen. ~ Nayomi Munaweera

So I told him that I don't look for boyfriends; I look for a person, then if the person happens to be the one then he's the one. And if not, then not! And I was also thinking to myself, about how I will not commit myself to a man more than he is willing to commit himself to me. I refuse to be braver. I choose to be secure. I am brave in so many areas of life and when it comes to a man I would rather he be braver than I. I would rather he commit himself to me in ways that will make my heart know him so well that I can say he swims in my blood and he walks inside my bones. But for me to throw my commitment in front of him, on the ground, to see if it's good enough? Hell will freeze over before that happens. I compromise myself in many ways, because compromise is selfless and compromise is giving. But one thing I will not compromise is my commitment. I have to feel safe to do that. I have to know that I am reciprocating; not initiating. ~ C. JoyBell C.

What do plants eat? They eat dead animals; that's the problem. For me that was a horrifying realization. You want to be an organic gardener, of course, so you keep reading 'Feed the soil, feed the soil, feed the soil…'

All right. Well, what does the soil want to eat? Well, it wants manure, and it wants urine, and it wants blood meal and bone meal. And I…could not face that. I wanted my garden to be pure and death-free. It didn't matter what I wanted: plants wanted those things; they needed those things to grow. ~ Lierre Keith

Here was Nick Krieger tenderly touching my face with the sun setting behind him and snowflakes sliding off his bare shoulders.
"Hayden,"he said again,gently. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head?"
"I don't think so."
He moved the t-shirt aside and leaned closer,examining my ear. Oooh,it would be so much more romantic if he looked into my eyes rather than fixating on my ear.Shouldn't I be able to make this happen? What was the world comng to,that I couldn't even control what Nick did in my own wet dream?
He poked my ear.
"Ow,ow,ow!" I squealed, and then felt faint again,out of breath.This was no wet dream.It was reality after all.
He let out a disgusted sigh. "Hayden, Josh is right.The doctor might not even put a stitch in that.What's the matter with you? Do you faint at the sight of blood?"
Oh,no.There was no way I would let him get the upper hand,even if I was lying on my back in the snow and he was kneeling over me. I laughed. "Of course I don't faint at the sight of blood.I jump onto the dance floor and do the Soulja Boy.Get the hell off me,Dr. McDreamy. ~ Jennifer Echols

Montjoy, the French herald, comes to the English king under a flag of truce and asks that they be permitted to bury their dead and "Sort our nobles from our common men; For many of our princes (wo the while!) Lie drowned and soaked in mercenary blood; So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs In blood of princes." (Henry V., Act 4, Sc. 7.) With equal courtesy Richard III., on Bosworth field, speaks of his opponents to the gentlemen around him: "Remember what you are to cope withal - A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways, A scum of Bretagne and base lackey peasants." (Act 5, Sc. 3.) ~ William Shakespeare

If you dry the chestnut, both the barks being taken away, beat them into powder and make the powder up into an electuary with honey, it is a first-rate remedy for cough and spitting of blood. ~ Nicholas Culpeper

The stuff of nightmare is their plain bread. They butter it with pain. They set their clocks by deathwatch beetles, and thrive the centuries. They were the men with the leather-ribbon whips who sweated up the Pyramids seasoning it with other people's salt and other people's cracked hearts. They coursed Europe on the White Horses of the Plague. They whispered to Caesar that he was mortal, then sold daggers at half-price in the grand March sale. Some must have been lazing clowns, foot props for emperors, princes, and epileptic popes. Then out on the road, Gypsies in time, their populations grew as the world grew, spread, and there was more delicious variety of pain to thrive on. The train put wheels under them and here they run down the log road out of the Gothic and baroque; look at their wagons and coaches, the carving like medieval shrines, all of it stuff once drawn by horses, mules, or, maybe, men. ~ Ray Bradbury

Anything that ties us to the world rather than drawing us closer to God is worldly. ~ Francena H. Arnold

Profit is like oxygen, food, water, and blood for the body; they are not the point of life, but without them, there is no life. ~ James C. Collins

A number of bloggers in economics and the financial sector have risen to prominence through the sheer strength of their work. Note it was not their family connections nor ties to Ivy League schools or elite banks, but rather the strength of their research, analysis and writing. ~ Barry Ritholtz

Wrath: look at how their folklore portrays our species. There's Dracula for Christ's sake, an evil bloodsucker who preys on the defenseless. There's piss-poor B movies and porn. And don't get me started on the whole Halloween thing. Plastic fangs. Black capes. The only thing the idiots got right are that we drink blood and that we can't go out in daylight. The rest is bullshit, fabricated to alienate us and stimulate fear in the masses. Or just as offensive, the fiction used to create some kind of mystique for bored humans who think the dark side is a fun place to visit. ~ J.R. Ward

For piety lies not in being often seen turning a veiled head to stones, nor in approaching every altar, nor in lying prostratebefore the temples of the gods, nor in sprinkling altars with the blood of beastsbut rather in being able to look upon all things with a mind at peace. ~ Lucretius

It has been estimated that more than 50 million individuals have lost their lives to wars and religious massacres. Is there even one among them worth the blood of a single bird? ~ Marquis De Sade

John Barleycorn was a hero bold, Of noble enterprise, For if you do but taste his blood, 'Twill make your courage rise, Twill make a man forget his wo; 'Twill heighten all his joy. ~ Robert Burns

Very much in my books people find not surrogate families because they are real families. We've got families that we're related to by blood but we've also got families that we acquire. And those too I think are pretty much part of my books. ~ Jackie French

The lake comes to the fringe while lights go up around the bay. Somewhere near, cow flesh is singed. Smoke floats above the walkway. I've eaten green that comes up black, risen cold from torrid mud. I've licked my paws and tasted blood. What is this world of busy lies? Some urban genie feeding food to flies! ~ Andre Alexis

Famiglia isn't always blood, mio caro. Famiglia is built on bridges of love. Famiglia is there for you without condition. Famiglia supports you in your darkest moment of need. ~ Tillie Cole

Joshua finished his charge to the people, "We are about to face a land of people more numerous than us, a land of giants, of cities with walls that reach up to heaven! But again, I say, be strong and courageous and fear not! For we battle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities and powers in high places! But we are surrounded by an army of Yahweh's heavenly host, ten thousand times ten thousand strong! We will triumph! Our god will triumph!" The congregation burst out in applause again. This time, it must have been heard across the plains in the very first city targeted for destruction: Jericho. ~ Brian Godawa

In a highly popular statement, we are told that the family has progressed from institution to companionship. But, as Ortega y Gasset has written, "people do not live together merely to be together. They live together to do something together". To suppose that the present family, or any other group, can perpetually vitalize itself through some indwelling affectional tie, in the absence of concrete, perceived functions, is like supposing that the comradely ties of mutual aid which grow up incidentally in a militar unit will along outlast a condition in which war is plainly and irrevocably banished . Applied to the family, the argument suggests that affection and personality cultivation can somehow exist in a social vacum, unsupported by the determining goals and ideals of economic and political society. ~ Robert A. Nisbet

And maybe I am a monster. I don't know the answer to that. But what I do know is that even if there's demon blood inside me, there is human blood inside me as well. And I couldn't love you like I do if I weren't at least a little bit human. Because demons want. But they don't love. ~ Cassandra Clare

With Wings of the Butterfly, John Urbancik infuses his tale of shapeshifters, romance and pack rivalry with some unexpected and welcome surprises. Fluid prose, gore galore and all-too human characters make this unusual, fast-paced novella a must for fans who like their horror served blood-rare. ~ Kealan Patrick Burke

The young man, perched insecurely in the slen­der branches, rocked till he felt slightly drunk, reached down the boughs, where the scarlet beady cherries hung thick underneath, and tore off handful after handful of the sleek, cool-fleshed fruit. Cherries touched his ears and his neck as he stretched forward, their chill fingertips sending a flash down his blood. All shades of red, from a golden vermilion to a rich crimson, glowed and met his eyes under a dark­ness of leaves. ~ D.H. Lawrence

We are the shoes, we are the last witnesses.
We are shoes from grandchildren and grandfathers
From Prague, Paris and Amsterdam,
And because we are only made of fabric and leather
And not of blood and flesh,
Each one of us avoided the hellfire. ~ Moshe Szulsztein

Could he hold up a hand, tell them he had spent a thousand years learning this trick and others, tell them of the guns and the blood that had blessed them? Not with his mouth. But his hands could speak their own tale. ~ Stephen King

Exposing error is most unpopular work. But from every true standpoint, it is worthwhile work. To our Saviour, it means that He receives from us, His blood-bought ones, the loyalty that is His due. To ourselves, if we consider "the reproach of Christ greater riches than the treasures of Egypt," it insures future reward, a thousandfold. And to souls "caught in the snare of the fowler"- how many of them God only knows- it may mean light and life, abundant and everlasting. ~ H.A. Ironside

First came the wail of a siren across the valley, and then because light travels faster than blood, we saw an explosion, and a second later we felt it and heard the ear-splitting blast. ~ James Aura

I like reading books with both hands, with my heart pumping, with blood on the page. So I'm interested in people who make stuff, and I'm interested in the lives that make the text. To read a book or watch a movie any other way, to me, personally, feels like a waste of time and misapplication of energy. ~ Tom Bissell

What's next? If there are vampires in there, they probably drink artificial blood plasma substitute. ~ Kelley Armstrong

The question now was ... whether that beautiful fabric [the English constitution] ... was to be maintained in that freedom ... for which blood had been spilt; or whether we were to submit to that system of despotism, which had so many advocates in this country. ~ Charles James Fox

On behalf of those you killed, imprisoned, tortured, you are not welcome, Erdogan!

No, Erdogan, you're not welcome in Algeria.

We are a country which has already paid its price of blood and tears to those who wanted to impose their caliphate on us, those who put their ideas before our bodies, those who took our children hostage and who attempted to kill our hopes for a better future. The notorious family that claims to act in the name of the God and religion - you're a member of it - you fund it, you support it, you desire to become its international leader.

Islamism is your livelihood

Islamism, which is your livelihood, is our misfortune. We will not forget about it, and you are a reminder of it today. You offer your shadow and your wings to those who work to make our country kneel down before your "Sublime Door." You embody and represent what we loathe. You hate freedom, the free spirit. But you love parades. You use religion for business. You dream of a caliphate and hope to return to our lands.

But you do it behind the closed doors, by supporting Islamist parties, by offering gifts through your companies, by infiltrating the life of the community, by controlling the mosques. These are the old methods of your "Muslim Brothers" in this country, who used to show us God's Heaven with one hand while digging our graves with the other.

No, Mr. Erdogan, you are not a man of help; you do not fight for freedom or pri ~ Kamel Daoud

Dr. Mark Crisplin, a Portland, Oregon, ER doctor, reviewed the original EEG readings of a number of patients claimed by the scientists as being flatlined or "dead" and discovered that this was not at all the case. "What they showed was slowing, attenuation, and other changes, but only a minority of patients had a flat line, and it [dying] took longer than 10 seconds. The curious thing was that even a little blood flow in some patients was enough to keep EEGs normal." In fact, most cardiac patients were given CPR, which by definition delivers some oxygen to the brain (that's the whole point of doing it). Crisplin concluded: "By the definitions presented in the Lancet paper, nobody experienced clinical death. No doctor would ever declare a patient in the middle of a code 99 dead, much less brain dead. Having your heart stop for 2 to 10 minutes and being promptly resuscitated doesn't make you 'clinically dead.' It only means your heart isn't beating and you may not be conscious."31 Again, since our normal experience is of stimuli coming into the brain from the outside, when one part of the brain abnormally generates these illusions, another part of the brain - quite possibly the left-hemisphere interpreter described by neuroscientist Michael Gazzaniga - interprets them as external events. Hence, the abnormal is interpreted as supernormal or paranormal. ~ Michael Shermer

Love, thine is the future. Death, I use thee, but I hate thee. Citizens, there shall be in the future neither darkness nor thunderbolts; neither ferocious ignorance nor blood for blood. ~ Victor Hugo

Judd's fists were so tight, he was in danger of fracturing his own bones. He understood why Brenna had needed to talk to Dorian. He even understood that the leopard saw Brenna as a young sister, not a potential lover. None of that made any difference. Judd wanted to be the one she turned to when in need.
Ice picks of pain shoved through his skull, dissonance so vicious it nearly shut down his consciousness. The countdown was getting inexorably closer to the end. Uncurling his fingers with sheer force of will, he watched the blood rush back in. Last night had made it clear that he'd already crossed too many lines, broken too many rules. Soon, it would be too late to draw back.
"Thank you, Dorian."
No, he would not pull back. Brenna was his. His to pleasure. And his to comfort ... ~ Nalini Singh

I'd once heard that we are nothing but our stories. Forget the blood and bones and genes and cells. They're not what we are. We are, rather, our stories. We are an accumulation of experiences that we have fashioned into our own grand, sweeping narrative. ~ Ken Ilgunas

The architecture of the Colisseum and other places of Roman entertainment are difficult to judge without recalling what purpose they served. It was here that gladiators fought to the death; that prisoners of war, convicts and Christians were devoured by as many as 5,000 wild beasts at a time; and that voctims were crucified or burned alive for the entertainment of Roman civilization. When the Romans screamed for ever more blood, artificial lakes were dug and naval battles of as many as 19,000 gladiators were staged until the water turned red with blood. The only emperors who did not throw Christians to the lions were the Christian emperors: They threw pagans to the lions with the same gusto and for the same crime-having a different religion. ~ Petr Beckmann

We be of one blood, ye and I ~ Rudyard Kipling

When Lilia was four years old, her mother filled a shallow dish with Lilia's blood and fed it to the boars that patrolled the thorn fence. ~ Kameron Hurley

Only those are happy who never think or, rather, who only think about life's bare necessities, and to think about such things means not to think at all. True thinking resembles a demon who muddies the spring of life or a sickness which corrupts its roots. To think all the time, to raise questions, to doubt your own destiny, to feel the weariness of living, to be worn out to the point of exhaustion by thoughts and life, to leave behind you, as symbols of your life's drama, a trail of smoke and blood - all this means you are so unhappy that reflection and thinking appear as a curse causing a violent revulsion in you. ~ Emil Cioran

He felt crazy sometimes. Real depravity. Late at night an electric sizzle came into his blood, a tight pumped-up killing rage, and he couldn't keep it in and he couldn't let it out. He wanted to hurt things. Grab a knife and start cutting and slashing and never stop. All those years. Climbing like a son of a bitch, clawing his way up inch by fucking inch, and then it all came crashing down at once. ~ Tim O'Brien

We've all heard the stories. It's just that some people don't want to believe them. 'He shall rise from the green' doesn't have to mean coming from the Blood Forest or Ruthgar. It could mean he starts out drafting green. One of the first glimmers of Breaker's magical genius showed whyen he went green golem in the Battle of Garriston - he'd never even heard of going green golem. He intuited it on the spot. His will was so strong, he drafted a green that stopped musket balls, Teia. 'He shall kill gods and kings'? He already done both. 'He'll be an outsider'? How much more outsider can you be than a mixed-blood bastard from Tyrea? Each of those things offend the luxiats, and all of them together make their blood boil - as it makes them furious that a Lightbringer would be necessary to put their worship right - but hasn't Orholam's work always offended those in power? I won't put myself on the wrong side of Orholam. 'In the darkest hour, when the abominations come the sores of Big Jasper, when Hope himself has died, then shall he bring the holy light and banish darkness.' 'Hope himself,' Teia. That's Gavin Guile. He's dead. our darkest hour is coming. We have to pick a side. ~ Brent Weeks

I read once that we're all just dead stars looking back up to the sky, because everything we're made of, even the hemoglobin in our blood, comes from the moment before a star dies. ~ Robyn Schneider

Oh, the envelope did contain magic," a strange, low voice said from the doorway.
Judith looked over. She forgot her cut and her coffee. And how to breathe.
The tall, broad man filling up the door frame looked like a warrior angel with gold hair falling into his eyes, a pale-gold undertone to his skin, and 'heartbreaking' green eyes….
"Any magic that involves blood is a grave threat," he continued. "And death by paper cut would be a long and tedious way to go. I can help. ~ Erin Kellison

How would you like it if I said you weren't a person because you're made of mostly water, hmm? How would you like it if I said you weren't real because your body changes all the time, and you aren't made up of the same parts from one year to the next? Your blood changes, your skin changes, your whole body gets swapped out for new bits - it's happening all the time. But I don't say you aren't real, even though your very existence is ephemeral. You are no more real than a cloud. You're here, you live, you die, and the world goes on. You're a breath of wind. Of the two of us, I am more real. I am stone, eternally unchanging. ~ Sarah Beth Durst

Southerners. Such literate, civilized folk, such charm and cleverness and passion for living, such genuine interest in people, all people, high and low, white and black, and yet how often it had come to, came to, was still coming to vicious incomprehension, usually over race but other things too - religion, class, money. How often the lowest elements had burst out of the shadows and hollers, guns and torches blazing, galloping past the educated and tolerant as nightriders, how often the despicable had run riot over the better Christian ideals... how often cities had burned, people had been strung up in trees, atrocities had been permitted to occur and then, in the seeking of justice for those outrages, how slippery justice had proven, how delayed its triumph. Oh you expect such easily obtained violence in the Balkans or among Asian or African tribal peoples centuries-deep in blood feuds, but how was there such brutality and wickedness in this place of church and good intention, a place of immense friendliness and charity and fondness for the rituals of family and socializing, amid the nation's best cooking and best music... how could one place contain the other place? ~ Wilton Barnhardt

It seemed that out of every tear of a martyr new confessors were born, and that every groan on the arena found an echo in thousands of breasts. Caesar was swimming in blood, Rome and the whole pagan world was mad.

But those who had had enough of transgression and madness, those who were trampled upon, those whose lives were misery and oppression, all the weighed down, all the sad, all the unfortunate, came to hear the wonderful tidings of God, who out of love for men had given Himself to be crucified and redeem their sins.

When they found a God whom they could love, they had found that which the society of the time could not give any one, -- happiness and love. ~ Henryk Sienkiewicz

It was like hunting fish with an underwater gun, a sport which he had once been foolish enough to try. At one moment there is the fish - graceful, mysterious, desirable and free - and the next moment there is nothing but struggling and blood and confusion. ~ Iris Murdoch

I don't hate you, Cyndi. You're blood. I have to love you. You just annoy the hell out of me. He put one
arm around her thin shoulders. ~ Jez Morrow

He set the RAM on the desk, then reached into his back pocket to pull out his grimoire. The size of a small paperback novel, it'd been a gift from Ambrose to help him understand some of the madness that surrounded him, and to answer some of the "other" questions that came up.

"All right, Nashira," Nick said in a low tone. "Talk to me. What the heck is watching me?"

He slid his knife out of his pocket, opened the book, and pricked his finger, allowing three drops of blood to touch a blank page. "Dredanya eire coulet" he whispered, waking the female spirit who lived inside the enchanted pages. The moment he finished speaking, his blood began swirling until it formed words:

Do not fear that which cannot be seen.
For they are lost in between.
'Tis the ones who come alive
That your blood will allow to thrive.

Nick snorted at the cryptic stanzas. "Not really useful, Nashira. Doesn't answer my question."

His blood crawled over to the next page.

Answer, answer, you always say,
But it doesn't work that way.
In time, the truth you shall find.
And then you will understand my rhyme.

"I'm such a masochist to even try talking to you"

Underneath the words, a picture of an obscene gesture formed.

"Oh very nice, Nashira. Very nice. Wherever did you learn that?"

In your pocket I reside.
Ever privy to your deride.
But more than that, I can see.
Sherrilyn Kenyon

Anthony Ryan is a new fantasy author destined to make his mark on the genre. His debut novel, Blood Song, certainly has it all: great coming of age tale, compelling character, and a fast-paced plot. If his first book is any indication of things to come, then all fantasy readers should rejoice as a new master storyteller has hit the scene. ~ Michael J. Sullivan