Jams

“There are few men with more blood on their hands than me. None, that I know of.
The Bloody-Nine they call me, my enemies, and there’s a lot of ’em. Always more enemies, and fewer friends.
Blood gets you nothing but more blood.
It follows me now, always, like my shadow, and like my shadow I can never be free of it.
I should never be free of it.
I’ve earned it.
I’ve deserved it.
I’ve sought it out.

Such is my punishment.”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Blade Itself

“Clean. Living. Captain.’ ‘Yes, Marshal Varuz,’ mumbled Jezal. Six hours later he was drunker than shit.”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Blade Itself

“Why do I do this?”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Blade Itself

“Glokta lurched towards him, hands spread out on the table, lips curling back to show his ruined mouth. ‘Dead! He died on the bridge! And what remains? A fucking ruin with his name! A limping, skulking shadow! A crippled ghost, clinging to life the way the smell of piss clings to a beggar. He has no friends, this loathsome fucking remnant, and he wants none! Get you gone, West! Go back to Varuz, and to Luthar, and the rest of those empty bastards! There’s no one here you know!’ Glokta’s lips trembled and spat with revulsion. He wasn’t sure who disgusted him more – West, or himself.”
― Joe Abercrombie, The Blade Itself