nini’s Reviews > Harrow the Ninth > Status Update

The dead Warden stopped. He looked at your face as though his eyes could peel through dermis, fascia, and bone. And he said, quietly: “How God takes — and takes — and takes.”

"Do you like poetry, Harrowhark?”
“I have never been a fan,” you said fervently.
“Poetry is one of the most beautiful shadows a civilisation can cast across time,”

"O corse of the Locked Tomb, she prayed silently to herself, the cold death to anyone who looks at me in pity; the heat death to anyone who looks at me in amusement; the quick death to anyone who looks at me in fear."