661 Quotes by Storm Constantine

You have filled me with death, with your breath of death.

Ays felt as if he was made of glass, some brittle substance, and the laughter cracked him. He felt the power of his skill drain out from his body, out like thin, rancid liquour down through the cracks on the floor.

The voice of the goddess, the priestess, was nourishment, dripping with nectar, dark and holy. Terrifying succour.

I know all! All! But Ays, my pretty smalling, can you pluck the knowledge from my breast, my brow? No! I cannot bestow such priveleges with abandon.

You are growing now, growing forth and your roots must spread until they touch the knowledge.

Lonely Ays, imprisoned in an icy structure he had built around his heart. Casmeer did not like this person, but neither could he abandon him. Not yet. Ays had a story, a life. It had to be written. A history had formed for Ays, a changeable history. Where had it come from?

In winter the Brine freezes over entirely and is said that the ice traps all the words that were being spoken as the water froze. In spring, when the ice melts, the air is full of the ghosts of conversation.

By day, Casmeer worried that he was becoming too involved in his work. He realised the boundary between fantasy and reality was growing blurred. Occasionally, but with increasing regularity, he thought about giving up on his creation. And yet, it had given his empty life some meaning. How could he live without it now?

Their hearts were as brittle as crystal shards, yet just as sharp and hard. They broke easily into a thousand fragments, and each of those fragments was a new heart, keen enough to wound and tear.