Janet Ellen Morris (born May 25, 1946) is an American author of fiction and nonfiction, best known for her fantasy and science fiction and her authorship of a non-lethal weapons concept for the U.S. military.
Men may not believe you, my son. But you must always say the truth, when the truth holds no danger for you or your loved ones.
Death's easy to find. If She wants you, you'll meet Her here as well as anywhere.
Live to fight on other days.
Time to unite the Sacred Bands, Thebans and his people: one unit, one heart, one swing through life.
One to a customer was the rule: one body; one mind; one swing through life. - Tempus
Bandara was not an easy place to return to: it could hide from the common worlds whose periphery it inhabited. But Bandara never had, in all its years, completely disappeared.
Some nights, one wants to tell beloveds everything that's been waiting to be said. Some nights, a man needs flesh and blood and warm breath and a loving heart.
The only unfair fight is the one you lose.
If, as Niko asks, you show them mercy, then the gods will be well pleased.
This is as 'alone' as I'm likely to get with you - you're not half so fetching as your daughter.
You must become like yourself.
Life to you, Riddler, and everlasting glory.
Death is a doorway, Niko, that leads to an adventure greater than any you have ever known.
Grab reality by the balls and squeeze.
And Tempus thought then that nothing was more worthwhile than what was growing in this whitewashed barracks, where he has come to build a force such as men or gods have never seen - a force worth reckoning with, if you were of a mind. And something was of that mind. And something else opposed it. He should have expected that. Battle in the heavens, battle on the earth.
Sacred Bands and elite squadrons aren't what the mercenaries' guild is about. Field them at your peril.
Deception is a tactic: use it. Do whatever it takes to win.
Survival has its own etiquette.
Wisdom, Niko thought as he leaned his cheek against his long-handled rake, cannot be had without price. And that price is blood. The sound of it in your veins. The pound of it in your head. The volume of it in a human body; the sickness when you've spilled it.
Nature has a surer plan than mortals can devise.