The arrogance of men never ceases to amaze me. You all think everything has to do with you, and every woman has to desire you.

There is an old saying here in the Borderlands: ‘Better to have one woman on your side than ten men.’

You listen sharp, think deep, and guard your tongue. That’s good advice.

Unpaid soldiers become angry. Angry, unpaid soldiers forget their loyalty.

Those broken by worldly violence and loss did not deserve to be shunned when they struggled to rise once more.

He had made mistakes in the past, bad calls, but fighting against tyranny, against brutality, would never be the wrong choice.

You only need to look up to see the best proof of endless possibilities.

Have been unavoidably detained by the world. Expect us when you see us.

Two sisters - one flighty, one responsible - find themselves tangled in a mysterious cult-like community when the flighty one disappears.

When reenacting Iron Age living gets a bit too realistic…

Women can be heroes, too.

The world he thought he knew had become an odd thing, twisting time and purpose. But it had remained an unfair universe in the end.

… many folk obey ancient laws of hospitality and cannot simply come charging into one’s home to murder guests.”

People don’t need wild gods any more when they’re fat and rich and comfortable. Gods don’t take kindly to being forgotten.

The wonder is that you could start life with nothing, end with nothing, and lose so much in between.

Because love, at its root, is hope. Hope for tomorrow. Hope for what could be. Hope that the someone you’ve entrusted your everything to will cradle and protect it. And hope? That shit is harder to kill than a dragon.

There were no clicks or eyeballs in the sensible, reasoned middle ground, and all the money in the world in encouraging users to rush to treat the extremes as if they were the center.

Men were always so afraid of tears, of having a hysterical woman on their hands.

Because it is dangerous to ignore the existence of the irrational. The more cultivated a person is, the more intelligent, the more repressed, then the more he needs some method of channeling the primitive impulses he’s worked so hard to subdue.

He’d had enough experience of both kinds of misfortune to know that there was a vast difference between feeling yourself a victim of random strokes of fate and having to accept that your troubles had been brought about by your own folly.