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Katrina Judd
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“Self pity is easily the most destructive of the non-pharmaceutical narcotics; it is addictive, gives momentary pleasure and separates the victim from reality.”
―
―
“You know,” OreSeur muttered quietly, obviously counting on her tin to let Vin hear him, “it seems that these meetings would be more productive if someone forgot to invite those two.”
Vin smiled. “They’re not that bad,” she whispered.
OreSeur raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” Vin said. “They do distract us a little bit.”
“I could always eat on of them, if you wish,” OreSeur said. “That might speed things up.”
Vin paused.
OreSeur, however had a strange little smile on his lips. “Kandra humor, Mistress. I apologize. We can be a bit grim.”
Vin smiled. “They probably wouldn’t taste very good anyway. Ham’s far too stringy, and you don’t want to know the kinds of things that Breeze spends his time eating….”
“I’m not sure,” OreSeur said. “One is, after all, named ‘Ham.’ As for the other…” He nodded to the cup of wine in Breeze’s hand. “He does seem quite fond of marinating himself.”
― The Well of Ascension
Vin smiled. “They’re not that bad,” she whispered.
OreSeur raised an eyebrow.
“Okay,” Vin said. “They do distract us a little bit.”
“I could always eat on of them, if you wish,” OreSeur said. “That might speed things up.”
Vin paused.
OreSeur, however had a strange little smile on his lips. “Kandra humor, Mistress. I apologize. We can be a bit grim.”
Vin smiled. “They probably wouldn’t taste very good anyway. Ham’s far too stringy, and you don’t want to know the kinds of things that Breeze spends his time eating….”
“I’m not sure,” OreSeur said. “One is, after all, named ‘Ham.’ As for the other…” He nodded to the cup of wine in Breeze’s hand. “He does seem quite fond of marinating himself.”
― The Well of Ascension
“There's nothing like stories on a windy night when folks have found a warm place in a cold world.”
― The Wind Through the Keyhole
― The Wind Through the Keyhole
“I loved you, so I drew these tides of
Men into my hands
And wrote my will across the
Sky and stars
To earn you freedom, the seven
Pillared worthy house,
That your eyes might be
Shining for me
When we came
Death seemed my servant on the
Road, 'til we were near
And saw you waiting:
When you smiled and in sorrowful
Envy he outran me
And took you apart:
Into his quietness
Love, the way-weary, groped to your body,
Our brief wage
Ours for the moment
Before Earth's soft hand explored your shape
And the blind
Worms grew fat upon
Your substance
Men prayed me that I set our work,
The inviolate house,
As a memory of you
But for fit monument I shattered it,
Unfinished: and now
The little things creep out to patch
Themselves hovels
In the marred shadow
Of your gift.”
― The Seven Pillars of Wisdom
Men into my hands
And wrote my will across the
Sky and stars
To earn you freedom, the seven
Pillared worthy house,
That your eyes might be
Shining for me
When we came
Death seemed my servant on the
Road, 'til we were near
And saw you waiting:
When you smiled and in sorrowful
Envy he outran me
And took you apart:
Into his quietness
Love, the way-weary, groped to your body,
Our brief wage
Ours for the moment
Before Earth's soft hand explored your shape
And the blind
Worms grew fat upon
Your substance
Men prayed me that I set our work,
The inviolate house,
As a memory of you
But for fit monument I shattered it,
Unfinished: and now
The little things creep out to patch
Themselves hovels
In the marred shadow
Of your gift.”
― The Seven Pillars of Wisdom
“I have no right to call myself one who knows. I was one who seeks, and I still am, but I no longer seek in the stars or in books; I'm beginning to hear the teachings of my blood pulsing within me. My story isn't pleasant, it's not sweet and harmonious like the invented stories; it tastes of folly and bewilderment, of madness and dream, like the life of all people who no longer want to lie to themselves.”
― Demian: Die Geschichte von Emil Sinclairs Jugend
― Demian: Die Geschichte von Emil Sinclairs Jugend
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