Stephen Franssen > Stephen's Quotes

“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

“The minute the door was opened, she wished she had made some excuse not to see them.  Victor was sitting by the bed, and the tender expression on his face as he looked down at his wife and latest child, made something violent and jealous jump in Penelope's heart.  She could have murdered Ethan for shutting the door loudly behind them, interrupting their intimacy.”
― Barbara Sontheimer, Victor's Blessing

“An Affair With The Media
Being President presupposes a relationship with the media. One does have control over the intimacy of that connection.
My media association might be best represented by the following interview, recently undertaken for this book:
“What do you think of Newstime’s review of your book, Madam President?”
“Newstime’s review? Surely you mean Bill Bologna who works for Newstime?”
“Well, yes.”
“Now, Bill Bologna. What has he published?”
“He’s a critic. He does reviews.”
“Oh, he gets paid for reading what other people have published and then writing what he thinks of their writing?”
― Nancy Omeara, The Most Popular President Who Ever Lived [So Far]

“You are thinking in human terms again, and forgetting Time is neither tick nor tock...”
― Frank Lambert, Ghost Doors

“We’re not here to argue with you about the wisdom of our alliance that has kept the Persians at bay for forty years. An argument requires a measure of equality between those in the dispute and Samos is not the equal of Athens.”
― Yvonne Korshak, Pericles and Aspasia: A Story of Ancient Greece

“Boy, you are a hothead, Bane. Your rage makes you an exceptional warrior but quite a boring conversationalist. Good thing I did not keep you for your manners and charm, eh? Now calm down, your spittle is getting all over me, my feet do not require a shower."
-Michael, The ArchAngel”
― J.B. Lion, The Seventh Spark: Volume One – Knights of the Trinity

“Jeter de l'huile sur le feu.”
― Rebecca Rosenberg, Madame Pommery, Creator of Brut Champagne

“Man may have the power of reason by his side, but it's the animals that are still in touch with nature.”
― Anna Sewell, Black Beauty

“Anger is better. There is a sense of being in anger. A reality and presence. An awareness of worth. It is a lovely surging.”
― Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye

“Whatever you do, do something positive.”
― Dave Pelzer, Help Yourself: Finding Hope, Courage, And Happiness

“I am motivated by thoughts of my sorrowful little client and the screwing that he got. I'm the only lawyer Donny Ray has, and it will take much more than paper to slow me down.”
― John Grisham, The Rainmaker

“Linda seemed to recognize loneliness. Possibly she could see it sitting opposite her, sipping lager and trying not to lose its temper. It was an illness, loneliness--it made you weak, gullible, feebleminded.”
― Nick Hornby, Juliet, Naked

“Walking on the land or digging in the fine soil I am intensely aware that time quivers slightly, changes occurring in imperceptible and minute ways, accumulating so subtly that they seem not to exist. Yet the tiny shifts in everything--cell replication, the rain of dust motes, lengthening hair, wind-pushed rocks--press inexorably on and on.”
― E. Annie Proulx, Bird Cloud

“I'm so proud of you I could burst, but in the interest of saving the poor cleaning staff the hassle, I would, instead, like to take you to our room and lick you from stem to stern until you beg me to stop.”
― Therisa Peimer, Taming Flame

“I feel homesick but I don’t know where for.”
― Sara Pascoe, Weirdo

“God is dead," said Maneck. "That's what a German philosopher wrote."

She was shocked. "Trust the Germans to say such things," she frowned. "And do you believe it?"

"I used to. But now I prefer to think that God is a giant quiltmaker. With an infinite variety of designs. And the quilt is grown so big and confusing, the pattern is impossible to see, the squares and diamonds and triangles don't fit well together anymore, it’s all become meaningless. So He has abandoned it.”
― Rohinton Mistry, A Fine Balance

“everyone else got lumped into the WAME category like we were all one big, homogenous mass and not worthy of distinct categorization.”
― Malorie Blackman, Crossfire

“Kiriyama's neck stretched as he lifted his chin to the night sky. The moon shone brightly, creating delicate shadows on his handsome face.”
― Koushun Takami, Battle Royale

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”
― Viktor E. Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning

“They used to call it the 'Great War'. But I'll be damned if I could tell you what was so 'great' about it. They also called it 'the war to end all wars'...'cause they figured it was so big and awful that the world'd just have to come to its senses and make damn sure we never fought another one ever again.
That woulda been a helluva nice story.
But the truth's got an ugly way of killin' nice stories.”
― Max Brooks, The Harlem Hellfighters