Best 95 quotes of Pierce Brown on MyQuotes

All my people sing of are memories. And so I will remember this death. It will burden me as it does not burden my fellow students -- I must not let that change. I must not become like them. I'll remember that every sin, every death, every sacrifice, is for freedom.

And now I Carve the things I saw in my fever dreams, just as they always wished. I dreamed of you, I think. In the end, I suppose they'll wish I hadn't dreamed at all.

And there's the beauty of space. A billion paths to choose.

As we pretend to be brave, we become so.

Battered and bloody, we join Cassius, Lysander, and Sevro before the door leading out of the Sovereign's inner sanctum as Cassius types in the Olympic code to open the doors. He pauses to sniff the air. 'What's that smell?' 'Smells like a sewer,' I say. Sevro stares intensely at the razors he's taken from Aja, including the one belonging to Lorn. 'I think it smells like victory.' 'Did you shit your pants?' Cassius squints at him. 'You did.' 'Sevro...' Mustang says. 'It's an involuntary muscle reaction when you're fake executed and swallow massive amounts ofhaemanthus oil,' Sevro snaps. 'You think I would do that on purpose?' Cassius and I look at each other. I shrug. 'Well, maybe.' 'Yeah, actually.' He flips us the crux and makes a face, twisting his lips till it looks like he's going to explode. 'What's happening?' I ask. 'Are you... still...' 'No!

Because honor still matters. Honor is what echoes." His father's words. But they are as empty on his lips as they feel in my ears. This was has taken everything from him. I see in his eyes how broken he is. how terribly hard he is trying to be his father's son. If he could, he would choose to be back by the campfire we made in the highlands of the Institute. He would return to the days of glory when life was simple, when friends seemed true. But wishing for the past doesn't clean the blood from either of our hands.

Bye, Felicia

Bye, Felicia"-Victra au Julii

Darrow: "Does he really believe believe in magic?" I ask. Daxo Au Telemanus: "He says gnomes steals ear wax from him at night. Mother thinks he's been hit too many times in the head." Daxo backs away following his father. But he can't hide the his clever smile as he pops a jellybean into his mouth. And I see where the ones in my pocket came from. "I say he just lives in a more entertaining world than we do.

Death is easy when you've already tried to find it.

Death isn't empty like you say it is. Emptiness is life without freedom, Darrow. Emptiness is living chained by fear, fear of loss, of death. I say we break those chains. Break the chains of fear and you break the chains that bind us.

Death isn't empty like you say it is. Emptiness is life without freedom, Darrow. Emptiness is living chained by fear, fear of loss, of death. I say we break those chains. Break the chains of fear and you break the chains that bind us to the Golds, to the Society. Could you imagine it? Mars could be ours. It could belong to the colonists who slaved here, died here." Her face is easier to see as the night fades through the clear roof. It is alive, on fire. "If you led the others to freedom. The things you could do, Darrow. The things you could make happen." She pauses and I see her eyes are glistening. "It chills me. You have been given so, so much, but you set your sights so low." "You repeat the same damn points," I say bitterly. "You think a dream is worth dying for. I say it isn't. You say it's better to die on your feet. I say it's better to live on our knees." "You're not even listening!" she snaps. "We are machine men with machine minds, machine lives …" "And machine hearts?" I ask. "That's what I am?" "Darrow …" "What do you live for?" I ask her suddenly. "Is it for me? Is it for family and love? Or is it just for some dream?" "It's not just some dream, Darrow. I live for the dream that my children will be born free. That they will be what they like. That they will own the land their father gave them." "I live for you," I say sadly. She kisses my cheek. "Then you must live for more.

Don't you find it peculiar? The human conviction that we are the heirs of history instead of paragraphs that are almost over.

Dreamers like your wife are limited, little Helldiver.” She makes sure I don’t speak. “Understand that. The only power they have is in death. The harder they die, the louder their voice, the deeper the echoes. But your wife served her purpose.

Forevermore, let justice be done.

Friendships take minutes to make, moments to break, years to repair.

Get him inside somewhere and keep that man alive.” “Man?” Screwface laughs. “Hic est Lupus, motherfucker.

Get some man-killing meat on your bones. No more of this anorexic scarecrow shit.

Government is never the solution, but it is almost always a problem. I'm a capitalist. And I believe in effort and progress and the ingenuity of our species.. The continuing evolution and advancement of our kind based on fair competition. Fact of the matter is, Gold does not want man to continue to evolve. Since the conquering, they have routinely stifled advancement to maintain their heaven...

Guard your hubris. Remember Pax. Pride kills.

He always thinks because I'm reading, I'm not doing anything.

He always thinks because I'm reading, I'm not doing anything. There is no greater plague to an introvert than the extroverted.

He looks like a Miltonian angel falling with wrath and glory. His exoskeleton sheds its friction armor, as Lucifer might have shed the fetters of heaven, feathers of flame peeling off, fluttering behind. Then a missile slashes the sky and high-grade explosives christen him mortal once again.

Honor is not what you say. Honor is what you do

I am a man!

I am so small. A billion tons of durosteel and nanometal move through the heavens, and I have never been beyond Mars's atmosphere. They are like specks of silver in an ocean of ink. And I am so much less. But those specs could ravage Mars. They could destroy a moon. Those specks rule the ink.

I didn't mind that it was always about you, Darrow. That was what burned Tactus, but not me. I'm not in love with you like Mustang. I don't worship you like Sevro or the Howlers. I was a true friend. I was someone who saw your light and your dark and accepted both without judgement, without agenda...

I do not sing. I am made for other things. My death is senseless. It is love

If pain is the weight of being, love is the purpose

If you're watching, Eo, it's time to close your eyes.

I live for the dream that my children will be born free. That they will be what they like. That they will own the land their father gave them.' 'I live for you,' I say sadly. She kisses my cheek. 'Then you must live for more.

I look at him for a moment. Words are a weapon stronger than he knows. And songs are even greater. The words wake the mind. The melody wakes the heart. I come from a people of song and dance. I don’t need him to tell me the power of words. But I smile nonetheless.

In the densest places of man, humanity most easily breaks down

I nurse the small fish on my plate. Cassius is already finished with his, always a man of appetites. I'm more practiced than he in the art of self-deprivation at the dinner table, doesn't feel so long ago that I was a knobby-kneed boy sitting at my grandmother's dinner table when she turned her long neck to me and peered down that Peregrine nose, and in a kindly manner, inquired if I intend to sleep out in the gutter instead of in my bed chamber, because by virtue of the fact that I'd eaten three whole tarts, I'd clearly abdicated being a man in favor of being a little pig.

I see why Demokracy is illegal. First comes yelling. Frustration. Indecision. Disagreements. Ideas.

I stand over them and cock my head. 'Is this the first time you've lost at something?' No answer. I frown. 'Well, that must be embarrassing.'

Is that why there are no servants here?" "There are servants, but I don't need them seeing you today. And they aren't hers. What kind of parent would want their children to have servants?" he asks, disgusted by the idea. “The moment a child thinks it is entitled to anything, they think they deserve everything. Why do you think the Core is such a Babylon? Because it’s never been told no.

I still remember the flush of blood in her cheeks as she danced. She was all the raw colours of life, the crude beauty of nature. I am the human concept of beauty. Gold made soft and supple in man's form.

It has been years since I've ridden a horse, and in all of human history, how many have graced the back of such a terrible prize as this? I fear disgracing this king of horses more than I do the coming violence.

It is my duty as a free man to read so I'm not blind being lead around by my nose

It is strange being in a crowd where no one knows your face or cares for your purpose. In Lykos, I would have been jostled by men I'd grown up with, run across girls I'd chased and wrestled with as a child. Here, other Colors slam into me and offer not even a faint apology. This is a city, and I do not like it. I feel alone.

It's as if we look at each other from distant shores and the river between widens and roars and darkens till our faces are pale shards of the moon in the deep night. More ideas of the boys we were than the men we are.

I wanted Red Rising to be the Cave from the Republic. The dark cradle in which you see shadows on the wall and you think you know existence. Then they get out of the cave, and shit look at those space ships and the feuds and the size of everything. It's hard to come right out and introduce people to a Space Opera. I wanted to lull them into one

I will die. You will die. We will all die and the universe will carry on without care. All that we have is that shout into the wind - how we live. How we go. And how we stand before we fall.

Look into yourself, Darrow, and you’ll realize that you are a good man who will have to do bad things.".... “See. That’s what I don’t get. If I am a good man, then why do I want to do bad things?

Manners, manners, then burn their bloodydamn house to the ground.

Manners, manners, then burnt their bloodydamn house to the ground.

Maybe that is the point of it. Knowing that though one day darkness will cover all, at least your eyes were open to see moments of light.

Molten wounds still glow where the two nuclear bombs detonated. And I wonder, in my last moments, if the planet does not mind that we wound her surface or pillage her bounty, because she knows we silly warm things are not even a breath in her cosmic life.

Mustang...' I rest my hand on her wrist. Despite her strength, it's frail in my hands. Frail as the other girl's was when I held her in the deepmines. I couldn't help that girl. And now I feel like I can't help this woman. Would that my hands were meant to build. I would know what to say. What to do. Maybe in another life I would have been that man. In this one, my words, like my hands, are clumsy. All they can do is cut. All they can do is break.