Sona Zanchez > Sona's Quotes

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  • #1
    K.  Ritz
    “I walked past Malison, up Lower Main to Main and across the road. I didn’t need to look to know he was behind me. I entered Royal Wood, went a short way along a path and waited. It was cool and dim beneath the trees. When Malison entered the Wood, I continued eastward. 
    I wanted to place his body in hallowed ground. He was born a Mearan. The least I could do was send him to Loric. The distance between us closed until he was on my heels. He chose to come, I told myself, as if that lessened the crime I planned. He chose what I have to offer.
    We were almost to the cemetery before he asked where we were going. I answered with another question. “Do you like living in the High Lord’s kitchens?”
    He, of course, replied, “No.”
    “Well, we’re going to a better place.”
    When we reached the edge of the Wood, I pushed aside a branch to see the Temple of Loric and Calec’s cottage. No smoke was coming from the chimney, and I assumed the old man was yet abed. His pony was grazing in the field of graves. The sun hid behind a bank of clouds.
    Malison moved beside me. “It’s a graveyard.”
    “Are you afraid of ghosts?” I asked.
    “My father’s a ghost,” he whispered.
    I asked if he wanted to learn how to throw a knife. He said, “Yes,” as I knew he would.  He untucked his shirt, withdrew the knife he had stolen and gave it to me. It was a thick-bladed, single-edged knife, better suited for dicing celery than slitting a young throat. But it would serve my purpose. That I also knew. I’d spent all night projecting how the morning would unfold and, except for indulging in the tea, it had happened as I had imagined. 
    Damut kissed her son farewell. Malison followed me of his own free will. Without fear, he placed the instrument of his death into my hand. We were at the appointed place, at the appointed time. The stolen knife was warm from the heat of his body. I had only to use it. Yet I hesitated, and again prayed for Sythene to show me a different path.
    “Aren’t you going to show me?” Malison prompted, as if to echo my prayer.”
    K. Ritz, Sheever's Journal, Diary of a Poison Master

  • #2
    Therisa Peimer
    “Aurelia, not all those women are uppity aristocratic bitches. Most of them are normal nice girls trying to survive in shark-infested waters, so if you want to make a difference, why not go in there and change the way things work?" "How?" Marcus smiled deviously. "By unseating the queen bee and changing the rules." "That sounds like a great idea, Colonel. Lead me to the beehive.”
    Therisa Peimer, Taming Flame

  • #3
    Sara Pascoe
    “It's only in my head, the madness. And there's no way of knowing if all this is going on in everyone else's head too without exposing myself, and I'd rather be insane and on the loose than locked up in a hospital.”
    Sara Pascoe, Weirdo

  • #4
    Simon W. Clark
    “She adjusted her body weight and caught his eyes, her gaze shiny and with a tinge of sadness. “My grandmother told me once that the world is filled with ghosts. The longer we live the more ghosts will haunt us.” She paused glancing at her palms. “But they’re here to remind us we are alive. That our hearts beat, blood runs through our veins, we breath air into our lungs.”
    Simon W. Clark, The Russian Ink

  • #5
    Henri Charrière
    “No nation has the right to revenge itself or rush to eliminate people just because they cause society anxiety. They should be healed instead of given such inhuman punishment.”
    Henri Charrière, Papillon

  • #6
    Terry Pratchett
    “Open your eyes and then open your eyes again.”
    Terry Pratchett, The Wee Free Men

  • #7
    Chaim Potok
    “Gershon had never seen him so transformed, so possessed of open radiance, so easily moved by all around him, so hungry, so eager. The city was a woman, and he embraced it with all the tender and gentle adoration one brings to a first love.”
    Chaim Potok, The Book of Lights

  • #8
    Cornelia Funke
    “There could be few men whose love for a woman had been written on his face with a knife.”
    Cornelia Funke, Inkspell



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