For we are all bound in stories, and as the years pile up they turn to stone, layer upon layer, building our lives.

Betrayal was the greatest of all crimes, for it took all that was human within a person and made it a thing of pain. In the face of that, murder itself was surcease: it was quick, and it ended the anguish and despair of a life without hope.

The harder the world, the fiercer the honour.

Oh yes, I have learned much from Tremorlor, and so assume a like strategy. Silence, a faint mocking smile suggesting I know more than I do, an air of mystery, yes, and fell knowledge. None could guess my confusion, my host of deluded illusions and elusive delusions!

The lesson of history is that no one learns.

I warn you all, hatred is finding fertile soil within me. And in your compassion, in your every good intention, you nurture it.

What makes a Malazan soldier so dangerous? They’re allowed to think.