Generally, I like to appear smart. I don't admit being stupid when there's any hope I'm not.

I hate being the only mortal in a gathering full of Immortals who think killing each other cleverly is the height of good manners.

I'm missing something, aren't I?" "Brains", he snapped. "And survival instinct. The Hawklord's been waiting for you for three hours." "Tell him I'm dead.

It was true: hope could be unkind. You opened yourself up to the worst of wounds because you wanted to believe that something good could finally happen. But if you didn't? You missed this. This intense and prefect moment in which, while the world was almost literally going to hells all around you, hope and reality blended in a single, perfect note.

The gods where like the weather; sometimes good, sometimes bad, and either way, always beyond her.

In youth,' he said, speaking as if from a great distance, 'we believe, and the death of belief forces us to disavow all belief. But that disavowal, time softens, and if we do not believe, we hope. Belief is easier to kill, somehow, and its death easier to bear.

You'll be with me, won't you?" "indeed." "Then what could go wrong?" Lord Sanabalis visibly grimaced. "You clearly do not believe in angry gods.