malin_bookies

“And I wonder, in my last moments, if the planet does not mind that we wound her surface or pillage her bounty, because she knows we silly warm things are not even a breath in her cosmic life. We have grown and spread, and will rage and die. And when all that remains of us is our steel monuments and plastic idols, her winds will whisper, her sands will shift, and she will spin on and on, forgetting about the bold, hairless apes who thought they deserved immortality.”
― Pierce Brown, Morning Star

“He loves her.
Of this he's certain.
He loves her laugh; that sharp, sudden sound; the cynical laugh that always comes too quick, like it's ripped out of her. He loves her quick, confident grin. He loves her resilience, her bravery, even her impulsiveness.
She's everything he's not: unbound, reckless, free. He's never known anyone like her.
She terrifies him, and he loves her so much it hurts.
In all of his worst nightmares, she's dying. She's fading away in his arms, helpless and whimpering, while hot, dark blood spills over his fingers.
This he tells her. He doesn't tell her that his hand holds the blade.”
― R.F. Kuang, The Burning God

“I will die. You will die. We will all die and the universe will carry on without care. All that we have is that shout into the wind - how we live. How we go. And how we stand before we fall.”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son

“He always thinks because I’m reading, I’m not doing anything. There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extroverted.”
― Pierce Brown, Golden Son