Brent Weeks

Every act intends some good.

He is terribly bright; he is handsome; he is charming; and you have spoiled him horribly. In other words, he has all the makings of a true monster.

My question is, do you believe in an evil possessed of its own purity? or does every act intend some good?...

It had better be. It doesn't do much when it's soft.

Do you know why you feel destined for something greater?_ __hy?_ Kip asked, quiet, hopeful. __ecause you__e an arrogant little shit.

Logan folded his arms. His voice was granite."My word stands.""Can you love an idea more than you love a man and not become a monster? How many friends will you sacrifice on the altar of Justice, Logan?""If you force my hand, at least one."They were standing on a precipice. Socially, Logan had always been Kylar's superior. Morally, Kylar had always felt inferior, too. But they'd never been placed in a direct hierarchical relation. Now Logan was giving an order. He would not be moved.Kylar could only accept his order and accept all his orders henceforth, or reject it and them forever. There was a part of him that yearned to obey. He was convinced that killing Terah was the right thing, but Logan's moral compass was a more accurate instrument than Kylar's. What was it about submission that was so hard? Kylar wasn't being asked for blind servility. He was being asked to obey a man he knew and loved and respected, who in turn respected him.'The wolfhound is pampered by the fire. The wolf is hunted in the cold.'"Do you know how much I love you, Logan?" Kylar asked. Logan opened his mouth, but before he could say a word, Kylar said, "This much." And left.

What people value in their books__nd thus what they count as literature__eally tells you more about them than it does about the book.

The truth is so dear to me that if Orholam stood on one side and truth on the other, I would turn my back on my creator himself.

...Many shadows hide behind light, and the best lies are those seasoned liberally with truth: salt covering the flavor of rotten meat.

This world has only two kinds of people: villains and smiling villains.

The perfect killer has no identity.

The perfect killer has no conscience.

The perfect killer has no friends. Only targets.

I'm afraid we were so eager to avoid war, we've made it all but certain.

Assassination is an art, milord, and I am the city__ most accomplished artist - Durzo Blint

Your Majesty,_ Durzo said gravely. __ man of your stature__ cursing vocabulary ought to extend beyond a tedious reiteration of the excreta that fills the void between his ears._ - Durzo Blint

A man__ greatest treasures are his illusions - Durzo Blint

Relationships are ropes. Love is a noose. - Durzo Blint