Wisdom, Niko thought as he leaned his cheek against his long-handled rake, cannot be had without price. And that price is blood. The sound of it in your veins. The pound of it in your head. The volume of it in a human body; the sickness when you've spilled it.

It was his soul's freedom that was in question. And that question was whether freedom was worth the price when it meant shirking the responsibilities of honor.

Be careful what you pray for.

Why is it we are always the targets of the angry Fates? Twice as many men of ours met harm as did theirs, since we've come here.

All gods are tricksters, and war gods worst of any.

Everything that anyone respects is what men naturally excel at: fighting, accruing wealth, playing at power.

Tempus never left a problem for another to solve. Tempus never let the pain or difficulty of an undertaking persuade him not to pursue a resolution his heart thought was right. Tempus never gave up.