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it strikes me as fitting that art should cost the artist dearly, that the most beautiful things made by man should also be poisonous.
“Well, we children do not like emptying, clearing. We do not want Czernobog’s darkness, only Belobog’s light. Even us very old children. We forget that light, without shadow or variation, is blinding. We malign and fear and slander the Emptier, Czernobog, the Dark One, the god of endings. Perhaps we would do well to wait, like children learning patience, learning trust, and see what fills the space he clears, what light breaks into his darkness.”
― The God of Endings
― The God of Endings
“I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”
― Empire of Storms
― Empire of Storms
“If you love a flower which happens to be on a star, it is sweet at night to gaze at the sky. All the stars are a riot of flowers.”
― The Little Prince
― The Little Prince
“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
Bethany’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Bethany’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
788 books
|
25 friends
302 books
|
12 friends
119 books
|
7 friends
249 books
|
8 friends
98 books
|
19 friends
93 books
|
21 friends
125 books
|
4 friends
153 books
|
3 friends
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