After a person’s death, the soul becomes either of two spirits: the shen , which ascends to the spirit world, or the guei , a dark, passive, yin spirit, which remains within the grave. The successful ascent of the shen depends on adequate ritual offerings from the surviving family, without which it becomes dissatisfied and eventually seeks revenge on the human world in the form of the malevolent guei , or ghost.
I could still see it. Richard suspended on the surface of life, bloodied, gasping—and the rest of us simply watching, waiting for the curtain to drop. Revenge tragedy, I wanted to say. Shakespeare himself couldn’t have done it better.
“I saw Richard,” I told him. Not a proper dead man, not really floating. “Just sort of hanging there. But broken and crushed, like everything was bent the wrong way.”
Act 3, Scene 2Kitabı okuyor
“These people deserve better than you.”
“I’m exactly what they deserve,” she said. “They don’t want peace, they want revenge. I’m it.”
“How is death and slavery peace?" Rin spat. "I have lost my friends and my country. I have lost everything I care about. I don' want peace, I want revenge.”
"I always believed that people married each other because they were in love. That always seemed a good enough reason to me. But apparently, that's too simple for young people nowadays. They have to talk about challenges and revenge. I just can't believe that love between men and women is really like that."
e-kitap olarak okuyorum.
If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?
—William Shakespeare
"We had given AM sentience. Inadvertently, of course, but sentience nonetheless. But it had been trapped. AM wasn't God, he was a machine. We had created him to think, but there was nothing it could do with that creativity. In rage, in frenzy, the machine had killed the human race, almost all of us, and still it was trapped. AM could not wander, AM could not wonder, AM could not belong. He could merely be. And so, with the innate loathing that all machines had always held for the weak, soft creatures who had built them, he had sought revenge. And in his paranoia, he had decided to reprieve five of us, for a personal, everlasting punishment that would never serve to diminish his hatred… that would merely keep him reminded, amused, proficient at hating man. Immortal, trapped, subject to any torment he could devise for us from the limitless miracles at his command. He would never let us go. We were his belly slaves. We were all he had to do with his forever time. We would be forever with him, with the cavern-filling bulk of the creature machine, with the all-mind soulless world he had become. He was Earth, and we were the fruit of that Earth; and though he had eaten us, he would never digest us. We could not die. We had tried it. We had attempted suicide, oh one or two of us had. But AM had stopped us. I suppose we had wanted to be stopped. Don't ask why. I never did. More than a million times a day. Perhaps once we might be able to sneak a death past him. Immortal, yes, but not indestructible."
I Have No Mouth & I Must ScreamKitabı okudu
Einstein said, “The weak revenge. The strong forgive. The intelligent ignore.”
I can’t believe the Witch Collector and I are on the same side. A day ago, I planned his end. Envisioned it. Tasted the sweetness of revenge and wondered if I was brave enough to take the life of a man who threatened all I hold dear. Now I stand here with the deaths of dozens painting my hands, speaking with one of the three people I hate most in this world, forced to be his ally because we share a common goal.
