Stephen R. Donaldson Quotes

I would say that happiness lies in serving the Land. And I would say that there is no happiness in times of war.

We have searched the seas, and have waited for the omens to come to pass." Foamfollower paused to look thoughtfully at Covenant, then went on: "Ah, my Lords, omening is curious. So much is said—and so little made clear.

It was clear to all there gathered that power is a dreadful thing, and that knowledge of power dims the seeing of the wise.

I'll tell you what it is. It's a goddam miracle, that's what it is."
"Come, now," the older man murmured. "I don't believe in miracles—neither do you.

He no longer accused himself; he knew then that no one could be blamed for being inadequate in the face of such unanswerable malevolence. Destruction was easier than preservation, and when destruction had risen high enough, mere men and women could not be condemned if they failed to throw back the tide.

Verily, wisdom is like hunger. Perhaps it is a very fine thing—but who would willingly partake of it?

In war men pass like shadows that stain the grass,
Leaving their lives upon the green:
While Earth bewails the crimson sheen,
Men’s dreams and stars and whispers all helpless pass.

It may be that hope misleads. But hate—hate corrupts. I have been too quick to hate. I become like what I abhor.

The prevailing breeze from the Forest blew into his face, and for the first time in many days he was able to distinguish the tang of the season. He found that the autumn of the Land had turned its corner, traveled its annual round from joy to sorrow. The air no longer gleamed with abundance and fruition, with ripeness either glad or grim. Now the breeze tasted like the leading edge of winter—a sere augury, promising long nights and barrenness and cold.

She said that it is the responsibility of the living to justify the sacrifices of the dead. Otherwise their deaths have no meaning.

I admit the desire. But do not tempt me. Power has a way of revenging itself upon its usurpers.

It was gray cold and dead from horizon to horizon under the gray dead clouds—not the soft comfortable gray of twilit illusions, of unstark colors blurring like consolation or complacency into each other, but rather the gray of disconsolation and dismay, paradoxically dull and raw, numb and poignant, a gray like the ashen remains of color and sap and blood and bone. Gray wind drove gray cold over the gray frozen hills; gray snow gathered in this drifts under the lees of the gray terrain; gray ice underscored the black, brittle, leafless branches of the trees barely visible in the distance on his left, and stifled the gray, miserable current of the river almost out of sight on his right; gray numbness clutched at his flesh and soul.

Ah, it is hard to take pride in human history.

He smiled because he was alive.

Do not hurt where holding is enough;
do not wound where hurting is enough;
do not maim where wounding is enough;
and kill not where maiming is enough;
the greatest warrior is he who does not need to kill.