Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Sabaa Tahir

Quote by Sabaa Tahir

“Contrary to what you might think, girl," Cook says, "the Commandant is not all-powerfull. She underestimated you, for one. She misread Spiro Teluman -- he is a man and so, in her mind, is onlly capable of a man's base appetites. She hasn't connected you to your parents. She makes mistakes, like everyone else. The only difference is that she doesn't make the same mistake twice. Keep that in mind and you just might be able to outwit her.”

Quote by Sabaa Tahir

Work

An Ember in the Ashes

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Sabaa Tahir

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Sabaa Tahir. more

You May Also Like

“The greatest challenge a teacher has to accept is the courage to be; if we are, we make mistakes; we say too much where we should have said nothing; we do not speak where a word might have made all the difference. If we are, we will make terrible errors. But we still have to have the courage to struggle on, trusting in our own points of reference to show us the way.”

“- როგორი ვაჟკაცი უნდა იყო, რომ ერთ დილას, სარკეში ჩახედვისას საკუთარ თავს მკაფიოდ და გარკვევით დაუმარცვლო რამდენიმე სიტყვა: მე მაქვს შეცდომის დაშვების უფლება? ზუსტად ეს რამდენიმე სიტყვა... ვაჟკაცობა უნდა იმასაც, რომ შენს ცხოვრებას გვერდიდან შეხედო და იქ წესრიგი და ჰარმონია ვერ დაინახო.”

“At the last minute, he broke the rule and he looked. He was so rapt in his view of the light at the end of the tunnel, he got excited, tuned up, he got crazy nervous and for a second he wavered in his confidence and he looked! To confirm or affirm or just firm up,’ students laughing ‘his manly love for her and in that motion of divine stupidity, he killed her dead forever with a glance. Hades ripped her back into his den and that was, proverbially, that.’ A girl across from me says bitterly, ‘No second, second chance for Orpheus.’ ‘He was fucked,’ D continues, nodding. ‘Not because the gods were heartless, but because he fucked up. The guilt of that. Can you imagine? Spent the rest of his pathetic days wallowing, lamenting, composing (or was it decomposing?) heartbreaking tunes upon his lyre, dissolving in grief and music and art, never being the least bit happy or lovable. The saddest sap of all. How do we tell a story like that without being sappy? Oh woe! How do we shape into lines our most harrowing mistakes and losses without drenching them in sticky poetic sap?”