“The Lady was medicine bad enough. The Dominator, though, was the body of which her evil was but a shadow. Or so the legend goes. I sometimes wonder why, if that is true, she walks the earth and he lies… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
I can laugh at peasants and townies chained all their lives to a tiny corner of the earth while I roam its face and see its wonders, but when I go down, there will be no child to carry my… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
“I cry for a little girl's dreams. I cry because the dreams will not die, though I am powerless to make them come true.” — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
No religion I ever encountered made any sense. None are consistent. Most gods are megalomaniacs and paranoid psychotics by their worshippers' description. I don't… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
“There are no self-proclaimed villains, only regiments of self-proclaimed saints. Victorious historians rule where good or evil lies. We abjure labels. We fight for… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
Evil is relative…You can’t hang a sign on it. You can’t touch it or taste it or cut it with a sword. Evil depends… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
“The Lady was medicine bad enough. The Dominator, though, was the body of which her evil was but a shadow. Or so the legend… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
“About you and me, Croaker and his gang, the Lady, Silent, Darling. About all the things we had in common but still couldn’t get… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
The people come from everywhere, from five hundred miles, to find their fortunes. By fortune is an ugly, two-faced goddess. When you have lived… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
“Closer at hand, the wheeling gulls were as surly and lackadaisical as the day promised to make most men.” — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
A world ought to have a few genuine good guys, and not just a spectrum of people running from bad to worse. — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
I believe in our side and theirs, with the good and evil decided after the fact, by those who survive. Among men you seldom… — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
Soldiers live. He dies and not you, and you feel guilty, because you're glad he died, and not you. Soldiers live, and wonder why. — Glen Cook Copy Share Image
