Author: Steven Erikson

Cites

• NULL (3)
  • IN: The Bonehunters (2006) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: For all that is made real In this age descending Where heroes leave naught But the iron ring of their names From bardic throats I stand in this silent heart Yearning the fading beat Of lives fallen to dust And the sifting whisper Proclaims glory's passing As the songs fail In dwindling echoes For all that is made real The chambers and halls Yawn empty to my cries - For someone must Give answer Give answer To all of this Someone The Age Descending
    FROM: Fethena,Torbora, (2006), Fictional, NULL
  • IN: The Crippled God (2011) Fiction, NULL
    EPIGRAPH: If you never knew the worlds in my mind your sense of loss would be small pity and we’ll forget this on the trail. Take what you’re given and turn away the screwed face. I do not deserve it, no matter how narrow the strand of your private shore. If you will do your best I’ll meet your eye. It’s the clutch of arrows in hand that I do not trust bent to the smile hitching my way. We aren’t meeting in sorrow or some other suture bridging scars. We haven’t danced the same thin ice and my sympathy for your troubles I give freely without thought of reciprocity or scales on balance. It’s the decent thing, that’s all. Even if that thing is a stranger to so many. But there will be secrets you never knew and I would not choose any other way. All my arrows are buried and the sandy reach is broad and all that’s private cools pinned on the altar. Even the drips are gone, that child of wants with a mind full of worlds and his reddened tears. The days I feel mortal I so hate. The days in my worlds, are where I live for ever, and should dawn ever arrive I will to its light awaken as one reborn.
    FROM: Fisher kel Tath, (2011), Fictional, NULL