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1008 pages, Hardcover
First published June 30, 2008

“People don’t change to suit their god; they change their god to suit them.”
“Survivors do not mourn together. They each mourn alone, even when in the same place. Grief is the most solitary of all feelings. Grief isolates, and every ritual, every gesture, every embrace, is a hopeless effort to break through that isolation.
None of it works. The forms crumble and dissolve.
To face death is to stand alone.”
“The soul knows no greater anguish than to take a breath that begins with love and ends with grief.”

“There is no struggle too vast, no odds too overwhelming, for even should we fail - should we fall - we will know that we have lived.”


The chaos in you, yes, a fire on the promontory, a beacon piercing the profound entropy we saw all around us. And yet, so few of you proved worthy of our allegiance. So few, Lord, and fewer with each generation, until now here you stand, virtually alone.
The one who was worth it. The only one.
Arrivals. Glory and portent, delightful reunion and terrible imminence, winged this and winged that and escapes and releases and pending clashes and nefarious demands for recompense over a single mouthful of spat wine, such a night! Such a night!
----------------------------------
And this was a night like any other, a skein of expectations and anticipations, revelations and perturbations. Look around. Look around! On all sides, day and night, light and dark! Every step taken with the firm resolve to believe in the solid ground awaiting it. Every step, one after another, again and again, and no perilous ledge yawns ahead, oh no. Step and step, now, step and step.
'There is no struggle too vast, no odds too overwhelming, for even should we fail - should we fall - we will know that we have lived.'

‘For you, Mother, he did this. For us, he did this. He has brought us all home. He has brought us all home.’
She cannot meet his eyes, but she is weeping none the less. She waves a hand. ‘You don’t understand, Harllo. That time, that time – I have no good memories of that time. Nothing good came of it, nothing.’
‘That’s not true!’ he shouts, close to tears. ‘That’s not true. There was me.’
Fanaticism was so popular. There had to be a reason for that, didn’t there? Some vast reward to the end of thinking, some great bliss to the blessing of idiocy.
“He likes hurting people”.
Bainisk nodded. “I think he wants to take over my job. He argued over every order I gave him.”
“People like him always want to take over,” Harllo said. “And most times when other people see it they back off and let them. That’s what I don’t get. It’s the scariest thing of all.”
“If you destroy the things around you, eventually you destroy yourself. It is arrogance that asserts a kind of separation, and from that notion that we can shape and reshape the world to suit our purposes, and that we can use it, as if it was no more than a living tool composed of a million parts.”*
*this wasn’t said by Endest but he was part of the conversation
There is, in this, no moral compass. No need for one, for every path leads to the same place, where blessing is passed out, no questions asked.
The cult of the Redeemer… it is an abomination.
She had begun to understand how priesthoods were born, the necessity of sanctioned forms, rules and prohibitions, the moral filter defined by accepted notions of justice. And yet, she could see how profoundly dangerous such an institution could become, as arbiters of morality, as dispensers of that justice. () She could impose a harsh, unwavering sense of justice. But what of the next generation of priests and priestesses? () How long before the hard rules make that church a self-righteous, power-mongering tyranny? How long before corruption arrives?
“I was speaking of lessons. You laugh at those coming to the Crippled God. Perhaps one day I will laugh at those coming to you.”