Quotes from Steven Erikson

Many dreams are forgotten upon awakening, yes?' He glanced away from her appallingly open expression. 'But not memories,' he said. 'They just rise up, like the sun. Each morning, after a moment's bliss, they return. Like ghosts. Demons. They return, Vastala, with all the fangs and claws of the truth. We awaken to what's real, what was and can't be taken back.' She

No matter how bad things can appear to be, they can always get worse. Such is life.

Money is sleight of hand,' Tehol said, nodding. 'Unless you've got diamonds in your hands. Then it's not just an idea any more. If you want to know the cheat behind the whole game, it's right there, lasses. Even when money's just an idea, it has power. Only it's not real power. Just the promise of power. But that promise is enough so long as everyone keeps pretending it's real. Stop pretending and it all falls apart.

Something awaits me. I do not mean this mad Emperor. Something else. Answer me this. How does one measure time?' 'By the course of the sun, the phases of the moon, the wheel of the stars. And, of course, in cities such as this one, the sounding of a bell at fixed intervals – a wholly absurd conceit and, indeed, one that is spiritually debilitating.

Autumn rains drumming overhead, they had squatted in a half-circle, facing north, and watched as seven robed and hooded figures approached.

The guard's gaze was on him, the eyes hard and piercing.

Cultures can die, Hull, but the people live on, and what they carry within them are the seeds of rebirth—

He strode down the empty street, cleaving the low-lying mists that swirled like incandescent cloaks in the gaslight.

A small whimper escaped her throat, then she desperately pulled her eyes away.

The creature spun, tumbling, then twisted round to face its attacker, rage blazing in its skull.

Around Karsa Orlong, I suspect, only Karsa Orlong has his way.

The world was not infinite, and yet a population could aspire to become so; it could (and would) expand well beyond its own limits of sustainability, and would continue to do so until it collapsed.

For the wise, even joy was tinged with sorrow.

Even order needs freedom, lest it solidify and becomes fragile

All right. Let's try something else. I take it you see no point in history.' He grunted. 'If by that you mean that there is no progress, that even the notion of progress is a delusion, and that history is nothing more than a host of lessons nobody wants to pay attention to, then yes, there is no point. Not in writing it down, not in teaching it.

I advised you to not look for hope from your leaders, for they shall feed you naught but lies. Yet hope exists. Seek for it, Brys Beddict, in the one who stands at your side, from the stranger upon the other side of the street. Be brave enough to endeavour to cross that street. Look neither skyward nor upon the ground. Hope persists, and its voice is compassion, and honest doubt.

No one could claim that Preda Norlo Trumb was the most perceptive of individuals, and the half-dozen Letherii guards under his command, who stood in a twitching clump behind the Preda, were now faced with the very real possibility that Trumb's stupidity was going to cost them their lives.

The final aspect of Kruppe to complete this dream's array of those faces facing him which are Kruppe's own. Or so you would proclaim. You are Humility but, as everyone knows, Humility has no place in Kruppe's life, remember that. So here you will stay.

The priest rubbed his bruised shoulder, the eyes within the feline mask glaring at Stonny. At Gruntle's words he faced the Daru again. 'These are not matters open to debate, Mortal Sword. You are what you are-' 'I'm a caravan guard captain, and damned good at it. When I'm sober, that is.' 'You are the master of war in the name of the Lord of Summer-' "We'll call that a hobby.

Being alive... isn't the same as feeling good about it.

The dull, hazy light played along the polished blade like water.

Rigga, Riggalai the Seer, the wax-witch who trapped souls in candles and burned them. Souls devoured in flame—

The scars without are the scars within.

We are not all. We are defined within a greater definition, and this greater definition eludes comprehension, because we are lacking. Incapable. Insufficient.