Cole

“Christian nationalism—the belief that America is God’s chosen nation and must be defended as such—serves as a powerful predictor of intolerance toward immigrants, racial minorities, and non-Christians.”
― Kristin Kobes DuMez, Jesus and John Wayne: How White Evangelicals Corrupted a Faith and Fractured a Nation

“She learned revolution is, in fact, always unimaginable. It shatters the world you know. The future is unwritten, brimming with potential. The colonizers have no idea what is coming, and that makes them panic. It terrifies them.

Good. It should.”
― R.F. Kuang, Babel

“My five Upstart sons are all bloody and brave
I’ve got one on the gallows, and two in the grave
One is your prisoner, and none is your slave

“Pish,” said Gormalin. “That’s a war song!”

I’ve got one in the hills that you never have met
And though he is young, he will murder you yet
For the hour is coming you’ll answer your debt

“That song’s illegal!” he protested, and right he was. It’s the very song that got Kellan na Falth hanged. “You can’t sing about men killing men since the Goblin Wars! Especially not a song against a proper king of Holt, even an old, bad king!”
Now, of course, I joined in.

My five Upstart sons have declared against you
Their tongues are as black as their promise is true
And they’ll call you to answer whatever you do!

No Coldfoot guard was going to be left out of an illegal Galtish rebel song, so Malk picked up the next verse with us, his strong, confident baritone suddenly making the whole insurrection seem credible.

The crown you so love sits but light on your head
The castle you stole has a cold, stony bed
And though I am old, I will yet see you dead
You’ve hundreds of men with long swords and long knives
But you’ve lain with near half of their fair Galtish wives
And none of them love you to lay down their lives
Abandon your tower and open your gate
No silver-bought army can alter your fate
If all my five perish, my neighbor has eight
Our ten thousand sons have declared against you
Their tongues are as black as their promise is true
And they’re coming, they’re coming, whatever you do”
― Christopher Buehlman, The Blacktongue Thief

“To put it in conclusion, sir, final girls are the vessel we keep all our hope in. Bad guys don't just die by themselves, I mean. Sometimes they need help in the form of a furie running at them, her mouth open in scream, her eyes white hot, her heart forever pure.”
― Stephen Graham Jones, My Heart Is a Chainsaw