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We are taught to treat a practice sword with all the respect of a real weapon, so no thoughtless mistakes are made Oh... In Eddis, we learn to keep tack of the weapon we have in our hand.

Megan Whalen Turner

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Megan Whalen Turner
Age: 59
Born: 1965
Born: January 1
Novelist
Writer
Learn
Treats
Keep
Mistakes
Hands
Weapons
Eddis
Real
Respect
Tack
Made
Taught
Thoughtless
Mistake
Sword
Hand
Weapon
Practice
Treat

More quotes by Megan Whalen Turner

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Today, she had yielded the sovereignty of her country to Eugenides, who had given up everything he had ever hoped for, to be her King.
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I'm dying of boredom. Or maybe just dying.
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The Magus must had eyes like a thief because he told Pol to stop and dismount to walk alongside me, one hand resting just above my knee ready to shake me if I fell asleep. He shook hard and resorted to pinching periodically.
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Anyone who can steal the king's seal ring can manage the locks on his record room.
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-You know-- Eddis hesitated, not sure how far to push the Attolian Queen. -Go on. Attolia inclined her head. -I was going to say that you look like a polecat when you smile like that. -Do I? Attolia still smiled. -You look a little vulpine yourself. The two queens sat for a moment in happy agreement.
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Safety is an illusion, Costis. A Thief might fall at any time, and eventually the day must come when the god will let him. Whether I am on a rafter three stories up or on a staircase three steps up, I am in my god's hands. He will keep me safe, or he will not, here or on the stairs.
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He didn't marry you to become king. He became king because he wanted to marry you.
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I hate horses. I know people who think that they are noble, graceful animals, but regardless of what a horse looks like from a distance, never forget that it's as likely to step on your foot as look at you.
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What a strange world it is, where prisoners are left their weapons and the written word is a mortal danger.
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A little danger adds spice to life.
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Coming from light into the dark, he was looking ahead of him, not down at me. My lunge, as I came to my feet, took him in the chest as I drove the sword upward with the strength of my legs. Even rusted, the sword slid through him, and I found, for the first time, how easy it is to kill a man.
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I was listening, the king said, aggrieved. I closed my eyes to listen better. What did you hear? I'm not sure, he said. That's why I was listening so closely. I may have to ask the baron to repeat some parts of his report on his grain tax. I am sure you can arrange an appointment. I am sure I can too.
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I grieved, but a part of me felt a lightening of a burden that I had carried all my life: that I could never be worthy of them, that I would always disappoint or fail them. As an unknown slave in the fields of the baron, I knew the worst was over. I had failed them. At least I could not do so again
Megan Whalen Turner
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Why didn't you tell me to take Attolia's advice from the beginning? I thought you should figure it out. What you learn for yourself, you will know forever, said Eugenides. Pol used to say that, said Sounis, surprised. I learned it from him. I just wish to my god that I had his patience for the process.
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I didn't think about being king,” he said, his voice hoarse. Eddis stared. “Your capacity to land yourself in a mess because you didn't think first, Eugenides, will never cease to amaze me. What do you mean you didn't think about being king? Is Attolia going to marry you and move into my library?
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Irene- Don't call me that. You were the princess Irene the first time we met. It means 'peace', Attolia said. What name could be more inappropriate? That I be named Helen? Eddis suggested. The hard lines in Attolia's face eased, and she smiled. Eddis was a far cry from the woman whose beauty had started a war.
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That is ridiculous, she said. The king agreed. Like falling in love with a landslide. Only you could fail to notice.
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So Sophos thinks you're going to marry me. While I think you'll marry Sophos. I might. We'll see what he's like when he grows up.
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On the bed, Eugenides stirred restlessly. Upset at the sight of blood? he said. Not my wife, Ornon. Your blood, the ambassador pointed out. Eugenides glanced at the hook on his arm and conceded the point. Yes, he said. He seemed lost in memory. The room was quiet.
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He couldn't offend the gods with a pointed stick.
Megan Whalen Turner