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Look to the souls of Your own soldiers, God, who labor in Thine awful cause.

Janet Morris

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Janet Morris
Age: 78
Born: 1946
Born: May 25
Author
Novelist
Science Fiction Writer
Boston
Massachusetts
Janet Ellen Morris
Janet E. Morris
Cause
Thine
Causes
Soldiers
War
Soldier
Soul
Awful
Look
Souls
Looks
God
Destiny
Labor

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Revenge is never the best driver for a battle, but a common one.
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It is upon each soul to recognize its limit.
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To take care of the world seemed, finally, a privilege rather than a burden. The Riddler had led them to life's greatest victory. They had found a home.
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You've been playing gods-and-witches again, that's clear.
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Nothing powers hate better than embarrassment.
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Be polite to all, friendly to none. Be professional. Be ready to kill everyone and everything.
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It is hard to battle anger, for whatever it wants it pays from the soul.
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Sometimes a man does what he'd most like to avoid.
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I...keep trying to be perfect. For you. So you'll notice me.
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What doesn't bend must break, when dooms are apportioned and destiny takes the lead. As it will now, and as it must, until this struggle ends.
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Wars don't bring lasting peace, only lasting death.
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Don't forget, Riddler, how I love thee. Or all we shared together. Or that this sea and all other seas can lead you back to me.
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Wisdom, Niko thought as he leaned his cheek against his long-handled rake, cannot be had without price.
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I must decide if you deserve to die.
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Sometimes the cost of winning for all the right reasons is so great that spirits die and hearts grow cold.
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You count up your dead, every one. Always. Recall them, each and all - every face, every heart.
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These Stepsons tread where mortals don't belong, some of us think. They seek out battle high above their station. Who knows what powers may yet take them and their mystic allies to task, bring them their comeuppance?
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Each soul has its appointed doom. How is it you dare to raise a mortal boy so high - high enough to flout the gods? Bring godhead where a man may reach out and take it? growls Enlil, and lightning splits a clear blue sky.
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I'm just a weapon of the god.
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Learn what can, and cannot, be asked from destiny.
Janet Morris