Steven Erikson Quotes

To grieve is the gift of the living — a gift so many of our kin have long lost

People don’t change to suit their god; they change their god to suit them.

Justice without compassion was the destroyer of morality, a slayer blind to empathy.

Against a broken heart, even absurdity falters.
Because words fall away.
A dialogue of silence.
That deafens.

For we are all bound in stories, and as the years pile up they turn to stone, layer upon layer, building our lives.

"Children are dying."
Lull nodded. "That's a succinct summary of humankind, I'd say. Who needs tomes and volumes of history? Children are dying. The injustices of the world hide in those three words."

“Tell me, Tool, what dominates your thoughts?” The Imass shrugged before replying. “I think of futility, Adjunct.”
“Do all Imass think about futility?”
“No. Few think at all.”
“Why is that?”
The Imass leaned his head to one side and regarded her. “Because, Adjunct, it is futile.”

The power he commanded insisted upon subjects. Strength was ever relative, and he could not dominate without the company of the dominated.

He thinks I will hit him. Strike him, with a large stick. Foolish mule. Oh no, I am much more cunning. I will surprise him with kindness… until he grows calm and dispenses with all watchfulness, and then… ha! I shall punch him in the nose! Won't he be surprised! No mule can match wits with me. Oh yes, many have tried, and almost all have failed!

Language changes over time. Meaning twists. Mistakes compound with each transcribing. Even those stalwart sentinels of perfection — numbers — can, in a single careless moment, be profoundly altered.

Giving advice to a child is like flinging sand at an obsidian wall. Nothing sticks. The brutal truth is that we each suffer our own lessons — they can’t be danced round. They can’t be slipped past. You cannot gift a child with your scars — they arrive like webs, constricting, suffocating, and that child will struggle and strain until they break. No matter how noble your intent, the only scars that teach them anything are the ones they earn themselves.

You are frowning. Why?’ ‘Well, I’ve already killed a god today,’ Iron Bars said. ‘If I’d known this was going to be a day for killing gods, I might have paced myself better.

Rake was an atmosphere, a heart-thudding, terror-threaded presence no-one could ignore, much less escape. Violence, antiquity, sombre pathos, and darkest horror – the Son of Darkness was a gelid eddy in immortality’s current,

I cannot help what I am – and that is the first lie, the one I uttered to myself long ago.

History comforts the dull-witted,”” the young Malazan said.

Beneth barked a laugh as he reached the gate. “And whose words are those, Pella? Not yours.”

The guard’s brows rose, then shrugged. “I forget you’re Korelri sometimes, Beneth. Those words? Emperor Kellanved.