The lowly squabble over trifles. The great wage secret wars for power and wealth, and they call it government. Wars of words, and tricks, and guile, but no less bloody for that.
Joe AbercrombieSome things have to be done. It's better to do them, than to live with the fear of them.
Joe AbercrombieThe more you learn, the more you realize how little you know. Still, the struggle itself is worthwhile. Knowledge is the root of power, after all.
Joe AbercrombieHer knee caught him between the legs with pitiless accuracy, driving the wind from his chest, making him teeter for a breathless moment, then bringing him down like a sledgehammer to a house of cards. As he slid groaning to the carpet in that special, shooting agony that only a blow to the fruits can produce, it was little consolation that he had been right.
His Queen was quite evidently a woman of rare and fiery passion.
Conscience can be painful but so can the cock-rot. A grown-up should suffer his afflictions privately and not allow them to become an inconvenience for friends and colleagues.’ - The Magnificent Nicomo Cosca
Joe AbercrombieStichwörter: nicomo-cosca the-red-country
Conscience and the cock-rot are hardly equivalent,’ snapped Lorsen.
‘Indeed,’ said Cosca, significantly. ‘The cock-rot is rarely fatal.
Stichwörter: nicomo-cosca
-Would it help if I said I was very drunk?
Brachio shook his head.
- We all were.
-Shitty childhood?
-Mummy used to leave me in a cupboard.
-Shitty adulthood?
-Whose isn't?
Stichwörter: temple joe-abercrombie red-country
Why do big men tend to have such little brains? Perhaps they get by on brawn too often, and their minds dry up like plums in the sun.
Joe AbercrombieStichwörter: humor
Power is a bloody mirage. The closer you seem to get the further away it is
Joe AbercrombieThe man screamed, and screamed behind his mask, and the Bloody-Nine laughed, and twisted the blade. Logen might have pitied him, but Logen was far away and the Bloody-Nine had no more pity in him than the winter. Less even. He stabbed, and cut, and cut, and smiled, and the screams bubbled and died, and he let the corpse drop to the cold stones. His fingers were slick with blood and he wiped it on his clothes, on his arms, on his face—just as it should be.
Joe Abercrombie« erste vorherige
Seite 16 von 16.
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.