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Quote by Joe Abercrombie

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The Wisdom of Crowds

This book delves into the concept of collective intelligence, demonstrating how diverse groups of people can often arrive at more accurate conclusions than any single individual. It examines historical examples and modern phenomena to illustrate the power of the wisdom of crowds. more

Author

Joe Abercrombie
Joe Abercrombie

Joe Abercrombie, born on December 31, 1974, is a British writer known for his dark fantasy style. His works are highly appreciated by readers, with notable series including 'The First Law' and 'The Heroes'. more

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“I wish I didn’t know, absolutely, you sign papers of ours without the reading of them.” “I give them a scan.” Sometimes. “If you fucked me over, I’m a cop. I know how to make you pay without letting it show. Like, the one where I tranq your wine, dress you in a diaper and pasties, get you in your office and transmit the image globally.” “You’ve given this some thought.” “Just in my free time.” She gave his hands a squeeze before drawing hers away and laying them on his cheeks. “Bottom line? She wasn’t wrong to trust a man she loves—because it had to be love. He’s not rich or good-looking or powerful. She just loves the wrong man. I don’t.” “Well now,” he murmured, then leaned in to take her mouth in a soft, slow, sweet kiss. “There’s the one where I coat the inside of all your boxers with a biological that causes your works to develop festering boils.” It made him wince. “Christ Jesus, you obviously have far too much free time.” “I’ve got a whole list,” she said as he opened the front door. “For him, too,” she added, shooting a finger at Summerset. Summerset merely cocked his eyebrows. “No visible injuries once again. We appear to be on a streak.” “For him I have the stick up his ass surgically removed, and without it, his whole body collapses into a puddle of ghoul.” She tossed her coat over the newel post. “You’ll be too busy with festering boils to have him reanimated.”

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“The habit of trusting God - could there be such a thing? Could such a habit be a lifeline when tribulations swept over you? Could you hang on to it during the worst of the storm without seeing any evidence that it was real? And then when the strongest waves and winds of sorrow had passed, could you realise that what you had held in your hands all along was genuine, that it was your means of rescue?”

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“In Plain Sight by Stewart Stafford How can I show the real me? My voice breaking as I speak, Parched hope's cracked lips, Delphic in this solitary chic. Vitriol cannot reach my shore, The purge reveals little to hide, Or does rage fester within me? A cannibal cheerleader inside. No father around guiding me, Burnt by mother's acid divide, Cataracts of persona non grata, A transient hat tipped in a lie. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

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Author:Stewart Stafford
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