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Quote by Mark Lawrence

“In a duel, man to man, sword against sword, it can be a lack of skill that gets you killed. Often as not, though, it'll be a matter of luck, or if it goes on too long, then it'll be the man who tires first that tends to die. In the end it's about staying power. They should put that on headstones, "Got tired.”

Quote by Mark Lawrence

Work

Prince of Thorns

In this gripping tale, a young prince named Edward is thrust into a world of intrigue and danger when he learns the truth about his parentage. As he navigates the treacherous political landscape of his kingdom, Edward must grapple with his own identity and the weight of his family's legacy. The novel delves into the complexities of morality and the human condition, offering a richly detailed and immersive reading experience. more

Author

Mark Lawrence
Mark Lawrence

Mark Lawrence, born on January 1, 1968, is a talented writer whose works span various literary genres. Known for his unique narrative style and profound thematic explorations, his writing has gained widespread recognition from readers and critics. more

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“To be able to listen -- really, wholly passively, self-effacingly listen -- without presupposing, classifying, improving, controverting, evaluating, approving or disapproving, without dueling with what is being said, without rehearsing the rebuttal in advance, without free-associating to portions of what is being said so that succeeding portions are not heard at all -- such listening is rare.”

“In your rare embrace, sometimes I am lost nowadays. In these years, you have changed. I have changed. Every single day, we’re fighting our feuds silently; inventing devious ways to hurt one another. Our gazes keep to our feet: wavering, pirouetting and crisscrossing, so as to not stumble, even inadvertently, upon each other. Our windows look out at other windows looking in at us. Mynahs no longer come by in our balconies. Branches, not of a mango tree, but of a conglomerate, surround them instead. The silhouettes of concrete buildings sometimes shine in the rain's aftermath, but remain concrete. Today, as the Ganga rises and rages all over the city, people run for their lives, but I let it wash over my soul and flood my tears.’ ('Left from Dhakeshwari')”

“Eena!” Recognizing Ian’s voice, Eena turned to find him approaching her from behind. He was entirely clad in body armor and gauntlets, cradling an open-faced helmet in one arm. Painted on his chest plate was a flaming, gold sword. From his side hung a leather sheath, a golden hilt peeking from the top. “I’m glad you’re back. You are going to stay and watch us play, aren’t you?” He looked hopeful she’d say yes. Eena smiled brightly. “I didn’t know you were talented enough to be on a dueling team. Nice sword,” she teased. Ian blushed a degree. “Thanks. They call us the Savage Warriors!” He rasped their team name in a semi-ferocious voice. “Jerin’s team captain.” She laughed at the showy designation. “And who’s your challenger today?” “The Dragon Slayers - Derian’s team.” Eena’s face fell. “Derian is playing?” She groaned internally, knowing she should’ve guessed as much. This was starting to look like another setup.”

“It is time to end this." He ducked under her sword, stepped around her with blinding speed until he was at her back. She turned at once. He thrust his sword with great precision to catch the grip just above her hand and flick the sword from her grasp. It was a move he had long ago perfected. Her eyes widened, she stepped back, stumbled, and fell to the ground. He stood over her, aiming his sword at her midsection. "Have you had enough then?" He smiled smugly down at her. "No." She rolled quickly, caught his ankle with her foot, and he tumbled to the ground. Before he could recover she scrambled to her knees, grabbed his sword, and held it against his chest. "You're right, it is time to end this." He looked at the sword and winced. "Do be careful with that. You could inflict a great deal of harm.”