A Quote by Brent Weeks

The truth was, Azoth hated Azoth. Azoth was a coward, passive, weak, afraid, disloyal. Azoth had hesitated. Master Blint didn’t know it, but the poisons on the needle had killed Azoth. He was Kylar now, and Kylar would be everything Azoth hadn’t dared to be.
Elene gasped and sat up. "Kylar Thaddeus Stern!" Kylar giggled. "Thaddeus? That's a good one. I knew a Thaddeus once." "So did I. He was a blind idiot." "Really?" Kylar said, his eyes dancing. "The one I knew was famous for his gigantic-" "Kylar!" Elene interrupted, motioning toward Uly. "His gigantic what?" Uly asked. "Now you did it." Elene said, "His gigantic what, Kyler?" "Feet. And you know what they say about big feet." He winked lasciviously at Elene. "What?" Uly asked. "Big Shoes," Kylar said.
Why do you keep saying incarnations like I’m some kind of god?” It wasn’t a great question, but the real questions were so big that Kylar didn’t even know how ask them. “You are worshipped in a few remote areas where your master wasn’t very careful about showing the full extent of his powers.” “What?!
The intuition that had kept Kylar from Vi even from the first time she'd tried to seduce him at the Drake estate suddenly crystallized: You don't share your life with a woman's body, you share your life with a woman.
I hated the mountains and the hills, the rivers and the rain. I hated the sunsets of whatever colour, I hated its beauty and its magic and the secret I would never know. I hated its indifference and the cruelty which was part of its loveliness. Above all I hated her. For she belonged to the magic and the loveliness. She had left me thirsty and all my life would be thirst and longing for what I had lost before I found it.
I wish I would have had more to do in the film. I hated to get killed so soon.
Durzo pulled out a gold Gunder from his pouch. Crowns Roth wins, Castles I lose. He flipped the coin. It bounced on the table and, impossibly, landed on edge. There´s always another choice, Kylar said.
Now Catherine would die. That was what you did. You died. You did not know what it was about. You never had time to learn. They threw you in and told you the rules and the first time they caught you off base they killed you. Or they killed you gratuitously like Aymo. Or gave you the syphilis like Rinaldi. But they killed you in the end. You could count on that. Stay around and they would kill you.
I had a date with a girl I called 'the parrot.' All she did was repeat everything I said. She never had an original thought of her own. Everything I liked, she liked. Everything I hated, she hated. It was annoying!
I had a date with a girl I called the parrot. All she did was repeat everything I said. She never had an original thought of her own. Everything I liked, she liked. Everything I hated, she hated. It was annoying!
A dog barks when his master is attacked. I would be a coward if I saw that God's truth is attacked and yet would remain silent.
As we talked, I had the sense of uncovering something precious and long-buried, fully formed. Our conversation was a process of removing layers, some of them easily dusted away. Other layers, requiring chisels or axes, were left alone for now. We revealed as much as we dared about what had happened during the years that separated us. But it wasn't what I had expected, being with Hardy again. There was something in me that remained stubbornly locked away, as if I were afraid to let out the emotion I had harbored for so long.
When I was growing up, all the women in my house were using needles. I've always had a fascination with the needle, the magic power of the needle. The needle is used to repair damage. It's a claim to forgiveness. It is never aggressive, it's not a pin.
It is true, Monsieur," Raoule went on, shrugging her shoulders, "that I have had lovers in my life as I have books in my library, to know, to study. But I have had no passion, I have not written my own book yet! I always found myself alone when we were two. One is not weak when one remains master of one's self in the midst of the most stupefying pleasures.
I don't know if I had success or not. But I am afraid of myself. Why am I afraid of myself? I always feel - I don't know - weak in the sense of not having power and also power is a fleeting thing, here today, gone tomorrow.
I'm scared of myself. I think I'd be a bad driver. I'm scared of cars, period. I've had too many friends killed now, and I've seen too many people killed in my life when I drove across the country when I was 12. I'm sure that has a lot to do with it. If you see a few real dead bodies with brains on the pavement, it does a lot to change your attitude. It means you can get it too. I've had a lot of relatives killed. I've had a lot of dear friends killed. It's stupid. The whole activity is stupid.
Because that, more than any monster, was what Sam had feared: that he was weak and cowardly. He had a terrible fear of being afraid.
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