Scott

“He begged before he died, you know. Your mighty Tolyev. You all beg, Nikita. That's what they don't tell you. When you see the end coming, past all the bluff and bluster, the thees and thous, in that final moment, you all beg like fucking children. And you die like fucking dogs.”
― Jay Kristoff, Empire of the Damned

“Reservations should not have been a permeant home. Like trailers, like campgrounds, like prisons or hospitals, they felt temporary, like some place you go between places. I realized I wasn't sure what permanence looked like, because we weren't meant to survive. My family, my tribe, my ancestors, we were something temporary to the settlers. Something that would eventually go away. Whether by disease or alcohol or poverty, our genocide was inevitable to them. I looked at the smoke pluming from the metal chimneys of the small reservation houses along the highway. But here we were, existing in our impermanent homes.”
― Sasha taqwšəblu LaPointe, Red Paint: The Ancestral Autobiography of a Coast Salish Punk

“What matters is that you did not know the story. And the reason you did not...is that our ancestor William - through his deeds of arms, his force of personality and his vast conquests - had achieved so much by the time his belly exploded that even this undignified end was soon forgotten by all but the most diligent annalists.

...

You and I, continued the king, have achieved nothing yet. Nothing...You may die here in Normandy, like our ancestor. But unlike our ancestor, should your dead belly burst and release poisonous miasmas that sicken all who smell them, then that, my son, will be the story of you.”
― Dan Jones, Essex Dogs

“She liked listening to Nezha talk. He was so hopeful, so optimistic, and so stupid.”
― R.F. Kuang, The Dragon Republic