Quotes About Loyalty

Barry Eisler

We had each spent two years with what Uncle Sam at the time affectionately referred to as the Muj, more recently regarded with less warmth as the Taliban and al-Qaeda, and I hadn't seen him, or missed him, since then.

Barry Eisler

client?" "I asked the same question. Hort wouldn't tell me. For your ears only. But if you want to share, I'm a good listener." I said

when products are essentially equivalent, people go with what's familiar, even if it's only familiar because they know its name from advertising.

which is a common term for the Lord God but is also a term that could be used, for example, by a slave for his master.

No winning words about death to me, shining Odysseus! By god, I'd rather slave on earth for another man—

VERY WELL, ROLAND OF GILEAD. 'VERY WELL, EDDIE OF NEW YORK. 'VERY WELL, SUSANNAH OF NEW YORK. 'VERY WELL, JAKE OF NEW YORK. 'VERY WELL, OY OF MID-WORLD.

He bought her six dresses, and I brought her god-damned cat back from the dead, so who loves her more?!

Aye. Would'ee speak a word of prayer first, Roland? To whatever God thee holds?" "I hold to no God," Roland said. "I hold to the Tower, and won't pray to that.

Sooner or later, if there isn't a turncoat, the people make one.

I'll do whatever you want," Trash said gratefully in the dream. "My life for you! My soul for you!" "I will set you to burn," the dark man said gravely.

When traitors are called heroes (or heroes traitors, he supposed in his frowning way), dark times must have fallen.

Oh, about beer I never lie,' Crandall said. 'A man who lies about beer makes enemies.

It was a cliché, but for all-weather company, you couldn't do better than a dog. Couldn't do better than a dog, period. Dogs didn't know any better; they just made the best of it.

For your family, you do all that you can.

Without Constant Reader, you are just a voice quacking in the void.

Annie Wilkes was the perfect audience, a woman who loved stories without having the slightest interest in the mechanics of making them. She was the embodiment of that Victorian archetype, Constant Reader.

Your friends drag you down, Gordie. Don't you know that? [...] Your friends do. They're like drowning guys that are holding onto your legs. You can't save them. You can only drown with them.

There's no tonic like an old friend.

Will you share khef with me, and share this water?' 'Yes.' 'Drink, bondsman.' Jake did. Then, before Roland could kiss him, he dropped the cup, flung his arms about the gunslinger's neck, and whispered fiercely into his ear: 'Roland, I love you.' 'I love you, too,' he said, and released him. Outside, the wind gusted again. Jake waited for something to howl – perhaps in triumph – but nothing did.

Looking back on it, Sloat wasn't sure how he had tolerated Phil Sawyer for as long as he had. His partner had never played to win, not seriously; he had been encumbered by sentimental notions of loyalty and honor, corrupted by the stuff you told kids to get them halfway civilized before you finally tore the blindfold off their eyes.

She was my heart, and I guard what's there. Nobody takes it away from me.

One of his followers murmured agreement, but another quietly slipped away. Now there was Norton and four others. Maybe that wasn't so bad. Christ Himself could only find twelve.