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“Ben Adaephon Delat," Pearl said plaintively, "see the last who comes. You send me to my death."
"I know," Quick Ben whispered.
"Flee, then. I will hold them enough to ensure your escape no more."
Quick Ben sank down past the roof.
Before he passed from sight Pearl spoke again. "Ben Adaephon Delat, do you pity me?"
"Yes" he replied softly, then pivoted and dropped down into darkness.”
― Gardens of the Moon
"I know," Quick Ben whispered.
"Flee, then. I will hold them enough to ensure your escape no more."
Quick Ben sank down past the roof.
Before he passed from sight Pearl spoke again. "Ben Adaephon Delat, do you pity me?"
"Yes" he replied softly, then pivoted and dropped down into darkness.”
― Gardens of the Moon
“Words are like coin—it pays to hoard."
"Until you die on a bed of gold," Paran said.”
― Gardens of the Moon
"Until you die on a bed of gold," Paran said.”
― Gardens of the Moon
“Where is the library?”
“Turn right, proceed thirty-four paces, turn right again, twelve paces, then through door on the right, thirty-five paces, through archway on right another eleven paces, turn right one last time, fifteen paces, enter the door on the right.”
Mappo stared at Iskaral Pust.
The High Priest shifted nervously.
“Or,” the Trell said, eyes narrowed, “turn left, nineteen paces.”
“Aye,” Iskaral muttered.”
― Deadhouse Gates
“Turn right, proceed thirty-four paces, turn right again, twelve paces, then through door on the right, thirty-five paces, through archway on right another eleven paces, turn right one last time, fifteen paces, enter the door on the right.”
Mappo stared at Iskaral Pust.
The High Priest shifted nervously.
“Or,” the Trell said, eyes narrowed, “turn left, nineteen paces.”
“Aye,” Iskaral muttered.”
― Deadhouse Gates
“Such is the vastness of his genius that he can outwit even himself.”
― Deadhouse Gates
― Deadhouse Gates
“It hurts so much, she thought. Our children, Ned, all our sweet babes. Rickon, Bran, Arya, Sansa, Robb… Robb… please, Ned, please, make it stop, make it stop hurting… The white tears and the red ones ran together until her face was torn and tattered, the face that Ned had loved. Catelyn Stark raised her hands and watched the blood run down her long fingers, over her wrists, beneath the sleeves of her gown. Slow red worms crawled along her arms and under her clothes. It tickles. That made her laugh until she screamed. “Mad,” someone said, “she’s lost her wits,” and someone else said, “Make an end,” and a hand grabbed her scalp just as she’d done with Jinglebell, and she thought, No, don’t, don’t cut my hair, Ned loves my hair. Then the steel was at her throat, and its bite was red and cold.— Catelyn Stark”
― A Storm of Swords
― A Storm of Swords
Ben’s 2025 Year in Books
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