Glen

“She screamed now. She raved. She raged through the tomb, strewing bones in her wake, tearing limbs and heads from desiccated bodies. She hated the dead. She hated the living even more, those who had abandoned her and still breathed the open air.”
― Brian McNaughton, The Throne of Bones

“It's your choice, butterflies or chains?”
― Laura Foster, Crimson

“Win or lose, the gods feast on our deeds. A man pets a stray, and his small pleasure in the act of kindness feeds Slaanesh. A woman strikes her crying child and that awful moment of elation she feels feeds Khorne. A Munitorum drone considers suicide. Nurgle grows fat on his despair. A merciful strategist devises a plan for bloodless victory, and Tzeentch is content. The Word Bearers think the gods crave worship. But the gods care for nothing save filling their bellies with our sorrows. Intentionally or not, we are all meat for the beast. Even you.”
― Josh Reynolds, Fabius Bile: The Omnibus

“Let’s see you reconstitute yourself from dogshit!”
― Brian McNaughton, The Throne of Bones