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“I ask of you your lives,” Elend said, voice echoing, “and your courage. I ask of you your faith, and your honor—your strength, and your compassion. For today, I lead you to die. I will not ask you to welcome this event. I will not insult you by calling it well, or just, or even glorious. But I will say this.
“Each moment you fight is a gift to those in this cavern. Each second we fight is a second longer that thousands of people can draw breath. Each stroke of the sword, each koloss felled, each breath earned is a victory! It is a person protected for a moment longer, a life extended, an enemy frustrated!”
There was a brief pause.
“In the end, they will kill us,” Elend said, voice loud, ringing in the cavern. “But first, they shall fear us!”
― The Hero of Ages
“Each moment you fight is a gift to those in this cavern. Each second we fight is a second longer that thousands of people can draw breath. Each stroke of the sword, each koloss felled, each breath earned is a victory! It is a person protected for a moment longer, a life extended, an enemy frustrated!”
There was a brief pause.
“In the end, they will kill us,” Elend said, voice loud, ringing in the cavern. “But first, they shall fear us!”
― The Hero of Ages
“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more.”
― Emma
― Emma
“She assumes,” Wax said, “that our detective style isn’t normally the punchy-punchy, stabby-stabby type.” “To be fair,” Wayne said, “it’s usually a more shooty-shooty, whacky-whacky type.”
― The Bands of Mourning
― The Bands of Mourning
“You do not know the first note of the music that moves me.”
― The Name of the Wind
― The Name of the Wind
“That was when they noticed that every musician on the stage was wearing mourning black. That was when they shut up. And when the conductor raised his arms, it was not a symphony that filled the cavernous space.
It was the Song of Eyllwe.
Then Song of Fenharrow. And Melisande. And Terrasen. Each nation that had people in those labour camps.
And finally, not for pomp or triumph, but to mourn what they had become, they played the Song of Adarlan.
When the final note finished, the conductor turned to the crowd, the musicians standing with him. As one, they looked to the boxes, to all those jewels bought with the blood of a continent. And without a word, without a bow or another gesture, they walked off the stage.
The next morning, by royal decree, the theatre was shut down.
No one saw those musicians or their conductor again.”
― Heir of Fire
It was the Song of Eyllwe.
Then Song of Fenharrow. And Melisande. And Terrasen. Each nation that had people in those labour camps.
And finally, not for pomp or triumph, but to mourn what they had become, they played the Song of Adarlan.
When the final note finished, the conductor turned to the crowd, the musicians standing with him. As one, they looked to the boxes, to all those jewels bought with the blood of a continent. And without a word, without a bow or another gesture, they walked off the stage.
The next morning, by royal decree, the theatre was shut down.
No one saw those musicians or their conductor again.”
― Heir of Fire
Verona’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Verona’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
825 books
|
15 friends
961 books
|
245 friends
441 books
|
19 friends
744 books
|
25 friends
2,217 books
|
262 friends
444 books
|
32 friends
262 books
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32 friends
522 books
|
24 friends
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