Happiness is a series of grains of sand spread out in a desert of violence and anguish.

It's stories that inspire people to change. It's stories that make them believe things can be better.

Your ancient enemy is basically just a really, really big squirrel

If not us, then who? Who's going to stand when everyone else kneels? Who's going to argue for the law even when there's no justice to be had? Who's going to try even when the trying is too damn hard?

She turned back to the rest of us. "They've taken it all," she said. "They've taken every last good thing in the world."Then she swung the door wide. "Now go and show them your answer.

A coffin... I'm in a coffin.The stories told to frighten children and old men, of warriors injured in battle and believed dead by their comrades, only to wake up buried six feet beneath the ground, assailed me and i started to breathe too quickly, using too much air. Already i felt as if i was suffocating, trapped underground. Had they thought i'd lost too much blood? Was my heartbeat too soft or slow? Could Kest and Brasti truly have been foolish enough to think that-?BrastiI bellowed, and the sound of my voice echoed over the surface of the wood around me, "I'm going to fucking kill you this time you heartless son of a bitch!"A distant guffaw was followed by the sound of footsteps running towards me and brasti calling, "Hang on, hang on, I'm coming..."Blinding candlelight forced me to close my eyes as my prison lifted off me, and when i opened them again i saw that i hadn't actually been inside the coffin at all- Brasti had just removed the lid from one and flipped the rest over top of me.

However much this annoyed me, it is accepted practice for a duellist's supporters to cheer them on- in fact, i was entitled to similar outbursts from my own admirers.'This Undriel fellow really is remarkably skilled,'Kest remarked.Undriel. That was the bastard's name.Brasti came to my defence, after a fashion. 'It's not Falcio's fault. He's getting old. And slow. Also, i think he might be getting fat. Just look at him- barely four months since he beat Shuran and already he's half the man he once was.'Always nice to have friends nearby in troubled times, i thought, batting at Undriel's blade with a clumsy parry that was testament to my increasing exhaustion.

Why is life so much easier to live when people are trying to take it from you than when you’re forced to actually live it?

Words matter. Without words you can't have stories and without stories we would never have heard of the Greatcoats.

I don't know how well I can fight, or run, or judge, but when the blade comes, I swear on whatever they want me to swear on, I'll stop it, with my body if nothing else.

When you're fighting a crowd, it's good to shout potentially threatening things like "Crossbows!" or "Fire!" or "Giant Flying Cat!" every once in a while.

Gods, man, don't you start now,' I said softly. 'We're going to get a terrible reputation if we just keep travelling across the countryside crying all the time.