Quotes from Steven Erikson

and in the Calling Down to earth the God was Crippled, and so Chained in its place. In the Calling Down many lands were sundered by the God's Fists, and things were born and things were released. Chained and Crippled was this God

It is not for you to judge – yet how often is it that those in no position to judge are the first to do so, and with such fire and venom?

His friend waited, saying nothing – and Kalam knew that he wouldn't, because they'd been through it all together. Because true friends knew when to keep silent, to give all the patience needed.

Running away never feels as fast, never as far, as it should.

Badalle thought that Saddic's book should hold vast numbers of blank pages, to mark such silences and all they contained. The truths and the lies, the needs and the wants. The nows and the thens, the theres and the heres. If she saw such pages, and could crisp back each one, one after another, she would nod, remembering how it was. How it was.

if nature must win in the end, then let the death of our kind be sweet and slow. So sweet, so slow, that we do not even notice. Let us fade and dwindle in our tyranny, from world to continent, from continent to country, from country to city, city to neighbourhood, to home, to the ground under our feet, and finally down to the pointless triumphs inside each of our skulls.

What is given away for free comes back wounded.

Bargain from strength or don't bargain at all.

No lowlander horse could clear this wall, but Havok stood at twenty-six hands—almost twice the height and mass of the lowlander breeds—and, muscles bunching, legs gathering, the huge destrier leapt, sailing over the wall effortlessly.

Thus, I die a wise man, not a fool. Is there any difference? I still die, after all. No, there is. I can feel it. That difference — I have cast off my chains. I have cast them off!

If all existence is a dialogue, how is it there is still so much left unsaid?

After all, tyranny has no sense of humour. Too thin-skinned, too thoroughly full of its own self-importance. Accordingly, it presents an almost overwhelming temptation – how can I not be excused the occasional mockery? Alas, the Patriotists lacked flexibility in such matters – the deadliest weapon against them was derisive laughter, and they knew it.

Vengeance belonged to the young, after all. The time when emotions burned hottest, when life was sharp enough to cut, fierce enough to sear the soul.

You will find a balance. Whence comes the answer to sadness few can predict, but it does come, in time, and you will learn to appreciate pleasure for the gift that it is.

Do we all possess a wish to remain unseen, unnoticed? Is the witnessing of our actions by others our greatest restraint?

You misunderstand me. You always have. I have grieved, and that's faded away. Gone. Now … well, now there's nothing. A vast, unlit cavern. Ashes.

She wept for the man she had abandoned, fleeing the pain she had seen in his eyes, as his love for her kept him stumbling in her wake, matching each footfall yet unable to come any closer. For that she could not allow. The intricate patterns on a hooded snake held mesmerizing charms, but the bite was no less deadly for that. She was the same. There was nothing in her – nothing that she could see – worth the overwhelming gift of love. Nothing in her worthy of him.

since nothing else made sense.

Stay inside, please, and try not to break anything." "How can you call yourself an inventor if you dislike breaking things?

Out of your depth, Captain? Don't worry, every damn person here's out of their depth. Some know it, some don't. It's the ones who don't you got to worry about. Start with what's right in front of you and forget the rest for now. It'll show up in its own time.

To the executioner's axe there are those who kneel, head bowed, and await their fate. Then there are those who fight, who strain, who cry out their defiance even as the blade descends

The sprig of parsley garnishing the plate experiences soul-crushing rejection if left uneaten

Bridgeburners get pounded all the time. We just get back up. No bluster, just back up, aye.

When you are judgemental, all the paint in the world cannot hide the ugliness of your face. The viciousness inside pushes through and twists every feature.