Şükretmek, yaşamımıza daha çok şey katmanın mutlak yollarından birisidir.
Sayfa 74Kitabı okuyor
Beyninizin içinde var ettiğinizi, bedeninizin içinde de var edersiniz.
Sayfa 82Kitabı okuyor
Find me in the blackened paper, unarmored, in final scenery. Truth is like my husband: instructed to smash, filled with procedure and noise, hammering, weighty, heaviness made schematic, lessons learned only by a mace. Let those that hear me then be buffeted, and let some die in the ash from the striking. Let those that find him find him murdered by illumination, pummeled like a traitorous house, because, if an hour is golden, then immortal I am a secret code. I am the partaker of the Doom Drum, chosen of all those that dwell in the middle world to wear this crown, which reverberates with truth, and I am the mangling messiah.
S:31Kitabı okudu
A bone-walker emerged from a wall. It had three precious stones set in its lower jaw, a magical practice of old. One was opal, the color of opal. The bone-walker bowed to the prince of the middle air and said:
“The Treasure Wood Sword will not leave our house. Bargains were made with the Black Hands Mephala, the greater shade.”
Vivec kissed the first precious stone and said:
“Animal picture, rude-walker, go back to the lamp that stays lit in water and store no more messages of useless noise. Down.”
He kissed the second precious stone and said:
“Proud residue, soon dispersed, serve no guarantees made in my fore-image and demand nothing of its under-skin. I am master evermore. Down.”
He kissed the opal and said:
“Down I take thee.”
And then Vivec withdrew into the hidden places and found the darkest mothers of the Morag Tong, taking them all to wife and filling them with undusted loyalty that tasted of summer salt. They became as black queens, screaming live with a hundred murderous sons, a thousand murderous arms, and a hundred thousand murderous hands, one vast moving event of thrusting-kill-laughter in alleys, palaces, workshops, cities and secret halls. Their movements among the holdings of the Ra'athim were as rippled endings, heaving between times, with all fates leading to swallowed knives, murder as moaning, God's holy rape-erasure of wet death.
The King of Assassins presented to Vivec the Treasure Wood Sword.
“Milord,” the King of Assassins said. “The prince of House Mora is now fond of you, as well. I placed him in the Corner of Dagon. His eyes I set into a fire prayer for the wicked. His mouth I stuffed with birds.”
S:22Kitabı okudu
Unfold the whole and what you have is a star, which is not my domain, but not entirely outside my judgment. The grand design takes flight; it is transformed not only into a star but a hornet. The center cannot hold. It becomes devoid of lines and points. It becomes devoid of anything and so becomes a receptacle. This is its usefulness at the end. This is its promise. (…)
If there is to be an end I must be removed. The ruling king must know this, and I will test him. I will murder him time and again until he knows this. I am the defender of the last and the last. To remove me is to refill the heart that lay dormant at the center that cannot hold. (…) Ours is the duty to keep the compromise from being filled with black sea.
“The Sharmat sleeps at the center. He cannot bear to see it removed, the world of reference. This is the folly of the false dreamer. This is the amnesia of dream, or its power, or its circumvention. This is the weaker magic and it is barbed in venom.”
“This is why I say the secret to swords is the mercy seat. It is my throne. (…) These are why my words are armed to the teeth.”
“The ruling king is to stand against me and then before me. He is to learn from my punishment. I will mark him to know. He is to come as male or female. I am the form he must acquire.”
“Because a ruling king that sees in another his equivalent rules nothing.”
S:13Kitabı okudu