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“War isn’t hell. Hell is hell and war is war. One is deliberate the other indiscriminate. In all cultures who lean towards religiosity, they all have a place of reward and another of damnation and punishment. Hell, Hel, Jehenam, anyone who’s there know why they’re there and that they deserve it. Hell is very specific when it comes to those who reside within its domain.”
“War on the other hand, cares for naught. No one is safe, no one is natural, everyone is a victim-in-waiting, and every shot fried, every bomb dropped is indiscriminate as to who it hits. Hell is a realm of punishment and specificity. War a realm of utter madness. It’s place where morality can be casually abandoned if too inconvenient. Where God and the devil turn a blind eye to brutality and violence.”
“War, Agent Moli, is a failure of civilisation. Because once we commit to it, we’ve effectively said that reason has failed, and violence is only the solution to resolve our arguments. The gods are blind, and all is permitted under the sun.”
Moli took his hand in her and squeezed. “I know,” she said softly. “Yeah, I could tell,” said Ben. “Your eyes...they tell of one who has been bodies piled high as mountains.”
“They do?”
Ben nodded. “I fear...that you can’t go back to being the woman you once were. You live in a different world now. You know the price of freedom and that blood is a very costly currency.”
Moli soaked in those words. Then closed her eyes.
She nodded as the tears ran down her face.”
― Planet Heist
“War on the other hand, cares for naught. No one is safe, no one is natural, everyone is a victim-in-waiting, and every shot fried, every bomb dropped is indiscriminate as to who it hits. Hell is a realm of punishment and specificity. War a realm of utter madness. It’s place where morality can be casually abandoned if too inconvenient. Where God and the devil turn a blind eye to brutality and violence.”
“War, Agent Moli, is a failure of civilisation. Because once we commit to it, we’ve effectively said that reason has failed, and violence is only the solution to resolve our arguments. The gods are blind, and all is permitted under the sun.”
Moli took his hand in her and squeezed. “I know,” she said softly. “Yeah, I could tell,” said Ben. “Your eyes...they tell of one who has been bodies piled high as mountains.”
“They do?”
Ben nodded. “I fear...that you can’t go back to being the woman you once were. You live in a different world now. You know the price of freedom and that blood is a very costly currency.”
Moli soaked in those words. Then closed her eyes.
She nodded as the tears ran down her face.”
― Planet Heist
“Risso laughed. “You’re kidding, right? Man, you Judges
got all this fancy tech”—he waved at the screens—“but
you ain’t got the first idea how to be a cop. You use dogs
to hunt dogs, not computers.”
― JUDGES: The Patriots
got all this fancy tech”—he waved at the screens—“but
you ain’t got the first idea how to be a cop. You use dogs
to hunt dogs, not computers.”
― JUDGES: The Patriots
“And the moment a population loses hope, at that instant
they become fuel for eternal fascism,’” quoted Clarkson.
“You know... the moment Fukushima died, a light went
out in the world,” Douglas said. “He deserved to see
his words put to good use. Not as lazy justifications for
murder.”
Clarkson laughed laconically. “You don’t need
justifications for that. Just an excuse.”
― JUDGES: The Patriots
they become fuel for eternal fascism,’” quoted Clarkson.
“You know... the moment Fukushima died, a light went
out in the world,” Douglas said. “He deserved to see
his words put to good use. Not as lazy justifications for
murder.”
Clarkson laughed laconically. “You don’t need
justifications for that. Just an excuse.”
― JUDGES: The Patriots
“I once knew a young journalist from Tacoma, Washington,” Jael continued, “who was crushed when the novel he’d spent the last two years writing was rejected by every publisher he submitted it to. He wanted to give up, but then I told him of another author I knew who considered quitting writing—this one was a woman–due to suffering endless rejections as no one wanted to read her rabbit-in-a-waist-jacket story. At my suggestion, she decided to take matters into her own hands and self-publish her books. She became a household name and created what became the National Trust in the United Kingdom.
“Hearing that, the America writer persisted, and his book became one of greatest science fiction novels of all time. I have signed first editions of all his books at home. I tell you that story to say this: you’re a better writer than either of them, my friend. Better by many orders of magnitude. Persevere, Sergeant. Persevere. You owe it to yourself, to your friends, your family, and finally, to prosperity. Because what are stories but anthropology of the soul?”
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
“Hearing that, the America writer persisted, and his book became one of greatest science fiction novels of all time. I have signed first editions of all his books at home. I tell you that story to say this: you’re a better writer than either of them, my friend. Better by many orders of magnitude. Persevere, Sergeant. Persevere. You owe it to yourself, to your friends, your family, and finally, to prosperity. Because what are stories but anthropology of the soul?”
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
“What did we do to deserve this, mother?!” he demanded. “What did we do?!”
“Oh, my little prince!” she said, her voice full of love and compassion. “I fear deserve has naught to do with it. Sometimes life can be an utterly ruthless bitch.”
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
“Oh, my little prince!” she said, her voice full of love and compassion. “I fear deserve has naught to do with it. Sometimes life can be an utterly ruthless bitch.”
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
“Staring down evil was exhausting.”
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
“Girl had a gift.
Could have used it to make the world shine. ’Stead, she
used it for violence? Damn.” The man’s face twisted with
disappointment and grief. “Goddamn, man. It’s a shame
the way a body can go messing around with your heart.”
“Papa,” said Clarkson. The man looked up. “Way it
be, world heating up. Hearts are growing cold.”
“Way it’s always been, sister Judge,” said Papa
Kenyatta, his voice full of pain. “Way it’s always been.
Some hearts, cold as stone. Others, world makes cold.”
― JUDGES: The Patriots
Could have used it to make the world shine. ’Stead, she
used it for violence? Damn.” The man’s face twisted with
disappointment and grief. “Goddamn, man. It’s a shame
the way a body can go messing around with your heart.”
“Papa,” said Clarkson. The man looked up. “Way it
be, world heating up. Hearts are growing cold.”
“Way it’s always been, sister Judge,” said Papa
Kenyatta, his voice full of pain. “Way it’s always been.
Some hearts, cold as stone. Others, world makes cold.”
― JUDGES: The Patriots
“Pray God man, spare me at least your condemnations,” she gargled. “I am what I am and I won’t change. I delight in being me. Your words are dust just as Athena’s and Bastet’s were. Just as the carpenter’s son were. I’ve been killing since before you were born, and whom I serve has been doing so before France was called Gaul and before Atlantis fell beneath the waves.”
“I’ve been killing since before the man bitch Caesar bled out on the senate floor, before the boy conqueror Alexander fled half a world away from his terrible, ambitious mother and before the Hebrew prophet parted the red sea. Before the frigid virgin Queen closed her legs to all of Europe and before the war whore Achilles slaughtered the only good prince of a shit of a king.”
“I’ve killed popes, imams, rabbi’s, generals, warlords, kings, queens, pharaohs, and saints. I’ve watched empires rise and fall to dust, I was witness to the events of the Mahabharata, I’ve met Soulsaints, and I was a General for Kronos in the Titanomachy. So please just use your weapon and be done with it. I’ve had a very tiresome day, and I have no wish to hear the recriminations of righteous sheepdogs. I‘ve heard the bleating of moral sheep enough to last an aeon.”
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
“I’ve been killing since before the man bitch Caesar bled out on the senate floor, before the boy conqueror Alexander fled half a world away from his terrible, ambitious mother and before the Hebrew prophet parted the red sea. Before the frigid virgin Queen closed her legs to all of Europe and before the war whore Achilles slaughtered the only good prince of a shit of a king.”
“I’ve killed popes, imams, rabbi’s, generals, warlords, kings, queens, pharaohs, and saints. I’ve watched empires rise and fall to dust, I was witness to the events of the Mahabharata, I’ve met Soulsaints, and I was a General for Kronos in the Titanomachy. So please just use your weapon and be done with it. I’ve had a very tiresome day, and I have no wish to hear the recriminations of righteous sheepdogs. I‘ve heard the bleating of moral sheep enough to last an aeon.”
― Frostfeld - The Mourning Son: A Crime Fantasy
