Worst of all, the inner vault is guarded by a live dragon, attended by fifty naked women armed with poisoned spears, each of them sworn to die in Requin's service. All redheads. -You're just making that up, Jean.

In the glass burrow beneath their feet, the flames began to rise. First the flames, and then the screams

To us — richer and cleverer than everyone else!

Stand aside, and try not to catch fire if I shed sparks of genius.

As for history, we are living in its ruins. And as for biographies, we are living with the consequences of all the decisions ever made in them. I tend not to read them for pleasure. It’s not unlike carefully scrutinizing the map when one has already reached the destination.

The only constant in the soul of man is inconstancy; anything and everything else can pass out of fashion-even something as utilitarian as a hill stuffed full of corpses.

It was strange, how readily authority could be conjured with nothing but a bit of strutting jackassery.